33 Ways :Jack Could've Hooked Up With Chase:
by CrystallicSky
Summary: In honor of Silvarbelle's 33rd birthday, I decided about a week before the day in question to come up with 33 distinct Chack scenarios as a gift. Two months and a day AFTER said birthday, I guess I should've started sooner. CHACK, 7-PARTER
1. One to Eight

**33 Ways (Jack Could've Hooked Up With Chase)**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, implications of sexual situations, etc.**

**...**

**One -**

It was at least an hour past midnight when Diol padded silently into the dining room on his usual nightly rounds.

In a similar pattern to security guards, Chase Young's cats were assigned to patrol his grand volcanic palace in shifts. At any one time, a dozen or so warriors would be wandering through the halls and checking rooms for signs of an intruder or in a more general sense, _something wrong._

Some might label it baseless paranoia, but some were not Chase Young, Heylin everlord in possession of thousands of priceless historical treasures, dozens of powerful Shen Gong Wu, and what Diol had almost always referred to as an 'assload' of mortal enemies who would love to see him toppled at any cost.

The jaguar had always greatly favored the graveyard shift, himself. Daylight was when his master tended to receive most visitors, wanted or unwanted. With Chase Young awake and on guard to face any company or threats to his reign, Diol felt his services as a sentry were mostly superfluous.

It was at night, when his master preferred to be sleeping that Diol felt most useful.

For decades, it had been that he would sleep through the day, be available for Chase's wants and needs in the afternoon, and go on patrol through the night. As such, he was privy to nearly all nocturnal goings on within the palace and as of late, he was beginning to notice a reemerging pattern that he hadn't seen in centuries, back before Wuya had been sealed away in her puzzle box.

Even in the dark, his feline eyes could see his master sitting at the dining room table, his forehead resting on his interlaced fingers.

_"Rough night again, master?"_he inquired softly.

Chase, likely already having been aware of his presence nonetheless acknowledged his minion by meeting his eyes. "You have to ask?"

Diol came closer, shaking his head. _"This is the third time this week,"_he said.

Chase sneered. "Don't remind me," and his tone made it very clear that this was an order.

_"It's not my place to pry, master,"_ said the jaguar, _"but you can't keep on this way. It's really not good for you."_

"It's _not_ your place to pry, Diol!" Chase snapped. "_Do_ stay out of my love life."

If Diol had eyebrows, he would have raised one. _"How can you say 'love life' in reference to that woman with a straight face?"_

Chase scowled, but remained silent.

_"Did you even finish this ti—"_

"_No,_" Chase growled. "You _know_ I didn't!"

_"Don't you see that, in and of itself as a problem?"_ Diol wondered. _"That it's happening…or **not** happening on such a regular basis that I can assume it and be right on any given occasion?"_

The warlord sighed, resting his head against his knuckles once more. "Shut up, Diol," he said quietly.

If it were any other of his warriors, the request would be instantly obeyed. Diol, however, had been with Chase Young a very, very long time and knew precisely when to leave well enough alone.

Now was not one of those times.

_"You know I'm right,"_ he said matter-of-factly. _"I'm merely hanging a lamp-shade on the issue for you: Wuya is shit in bed and she has no redeeming qualities to make up for it."_

"Not true," Chase muttered. "She can sense Shen Gong Wu."

Diol stared. _"You've said time and time again that you have no real use for Shen Gong Wu. Did that sound as lame to you as it did to me?"_

"…it did."

_"So, _why_ do you keep her around again?"_ the jaguar asked. _"It obviously isn't the sex, you'd be better off celibate. Her magical abilities are of no great use to you, she has the personality of a rabid weasel, and she isn't nearly young enough to serve as a trophy wife."_

Diol did not miss the way his master winced at that final word.

_"What purpose does she serve to you, master?"_

"None," Chase finally admitted. "Is that what you want to hear? That she's useless to me? She is."

_"Then why does she live here? We all hate her, you know."_

Chase sighed, shaking his head. "I can't get rid of her," he grumbled. "We…have to stay together for th—"

_"For the sake of evil?"_ Diol mimicked his master's earlier movement. _"**Please,** master, you can't really believe that. If anything, she's deadweight to the cause of evil. How are you supposed to exercise your own evil machinations if you force yourself to suffer blue balls at the hands of that witch?"_

"You're getting at something, Diol," Chase said, his tone weary. "Just come out and say it."

_"Drop her,"_ the jaguar answered without hesitation. _"**She** needs **you,** not the other way around."_

Predictably, Chase bristled at the implication. "Of _course_ I don't need her," he declared, indignant. "She is _nothing _to me."

_"So, kick her out on her freeloading ass."_

Chase nodded. "You're right. This has to stop. I've started to _dread_ sex, lately. _Sex, _Diol! That is a major problem. Wuya has to go."

Diol bared his teeth in a dangerous-looking grin. _"I'm very glad to hear that, master. And, on the bright side, you can fill that witch's position with someone more competent."_

"A replacement?" Chase eyed his minion. "You believe I should replace Wuya as opposed to simply getting rid of her?"

_"What better way to piss her off than to **prove** how useless to you she was by replacing her within a few days?"_

Chase raised an eyebrow. "A few days. You have someone in mind, then."

_"Why not Jack?"_

"Spicer? Explain."

_"Isn't your reaction enough? A few years ago, you'd have laughed in my face for suggesting it. Now, you're just asking for reasons."_

"It would be lying to say I haven't thought about," Chase readily admitted. "Now that I'm ridding myself of Wuya, I could be persuaded to fill her place with a promising young apprentice."

Diol took that as his cue. _"He **is** a genius,"_ he pointed out. _"He can build a robot or a machine to suit any need you could possibly have."_

"True," Chase allowed, "but I have very few needs I cannot tend myself, with my own power."

_"But why use the magic and effort if you don't have to?"_ Diol's hind legs relaxed his body into a sitting position. _"Having Spicer at your beck and call would allow you to reserve your power for when it matters."_

"He already _is _at my beck and call, Diol," said Chase. "You know Jack will do anything I ask of him. How does the saying go? Why buy the cow when the milk is free?"

_"But is he loyal to you?"_

Chase paused.

_"Of course he isn't,"_ Diol answered his own question. _"He learned everything he knows about evil from Wuya—and that witch hasn't got a loyal bone in her body. If you want that particular 'cow' to provide **you** with 'milk,' not you and whoever else manages to get into his good graces that week, you'll have to 'buy' him."_

"And _teach_ him loyalty?"

_"Why not?"_

Chase tilted his head, considering it. "I notice," he said after a moment, "that you have nothing to say about the sex angle."

_"What should I say?"_ Diol wondered. _"I've seen you look at him, master. You think he's grown up rather nicely."_

"I do," Chase agreed. "He's pleasing to look at. Though I will admit, I am…concerned with his lack of experience."

_"Virgins are usually shit in bed, too,"_ the jaguar agreed, _"but unlike a certain old dog you've had the displeasure to rut, I'm willing to bet you'll be able to teach Spicer a few new tricks."_

The warlord chuckled. "I'll give you that," he said. "Spicer it is."

Diol returned to standing on four legs when his master rose from his seat. _"You're going to make a play for him **now**?"_

"He's an insomniac," Chase shrugged. "He'll be awake."

_"You're not going to kick Wuya out first?"_ the feline continued. _"You're not going take Spicer as an apprentice and **then** come on to him? It's a bit soon, don't you think?"_

"If I asked Jack to be my apprentice out of the blue, I'm quite certain he would come in his pants and then offer to do something salaciously indecent to me," Chase explained. "I'd rather cut out the middleman, if you catch my drift."

Diol winced in sudden understanding. _"She **did** give you blue balls."_

"Don't concern yourself over it, Diol, I'm about to remedy the situation. As for Wuya," he smiled, not a _nice_ expression, "I've found over the years that it infuriates women far more to be discarded because someone else has _already_ taken their place instead of ending things and _then_ replacing them."

A thrill of wicked admiration caused Diol to grin his jungle-cat smile again. _"You are **evil,** master,"_he said with no small amount of approval.

"Never forget it," Chase shot back before teleporting out of his home.

Diol resumed his graveyard shift, content that his master was off enjoying a hot, young booty call instead of suffering with the old (_very _old) ball and chain.

**Two -**

"This is stupid," he muttered to himself. "Whose dumb idea was this anyway?"

"Yours, Master Jack," a passing Jackbot helpfully chimed in.

Jack flinched and _glared_ at the robot. "_Thank_ you, JB-2657, you can leave, now."

The robot did so with no complaint, leaving the goth alone at his desk, a dauntingly blank sheet of paper staring him in the face.

Prior to actually attempting this, it had seemed like a good idea. Then again, that could really be said for all 'helpful tips' to be found in ladies' magazines—which Jack really didn't read, or even subscribe to, honest! His mom must have left it out and there was nothing on TV and he had been so _bored_–!

_Helpful Tips to Win Your Dream Guy,_ the article had promised. _Stuff No One Should Ever Try and a Few Things That **Might** Work,_the article should've have been titled.

Jack had been appalled by most of the magazine's suggestions, as a guy women were theoretically supposed to use these things on. Blatant lying and manipulation seemed like horrible traits in a significant other of any kind, and any relationship started with them was _not_ going to end well.

Jack was very glad he didn't like girls, after all, if this was really the kind of stuff the desperate ones were apt to pull.

Even so, not everything on the list had been complete crap, so he hadn't dismissed it completely. Some of the things almost looked to be worth a try!

Well…that, and he was getting pretty desperate, too.

So far, nothing had really worked out.

His attempt to 'stop chasing and make _him_ go after _you_' had resulted in not being followed. 'Flirting and dressing sexy' had failed before it had even got started when Jack realized he wasn't a social enough creature to have any idea how to flirt _or_ in touch with his stereotypical gay side to know what kind of clothes to wear to be 'sexy.' The ploy to 'be seen with someone else, make him jealous' had only really hurt his self esteem when he remembered the hard way that the whole point of the thing was that he _couldn't_ get a date in the first place.

But this last one on the list, Jack thought to himself, looking it over once more…this one was doable.

_Does he know how you feel? Unless he's a mind-reader, you have to tell him or he'll never know! In person is the best way, but you could give him a call, too. Remember: be honest!_

Jack would rather not humiliate himself completely with a face-to-face on this one (not to mention risk death and/or maiming if Chase didn't take it well), and he was pretty sure that a thousand-something-year-old warlord didn't have a publicly-listed phone number—if he had one at all.

A letter was good, Jack had decided, but fifteen minutes later, he amended the thought: a letter _would_ be good…if he had any idea what to write in the damn thing!

Jack sighed. "What the fuck am I supposed to say?" he demanded of the empty room.

Of course, the empty room did not answer.

He sighed again. "Be honest, huh?" Red eyes glared at the blank piece of paper once more before Jack determinedly picked up his pen. "Fine. I'll be honest."

_Dear Chase,_

_I would've done this in person, but let's both be honest: I'm a coward and you're scary as hell. Instead, I'm doing this through a letter, so you at least have to hear everything I need to say before you come and kill me._

_I am totally, completely, and hopelessly in love with you._

_Yes, you're reading that right and yes, I'm sure. A crush would've at least faded after a few years, but no such luck yet. It's been, what, seven, now? So, yeah, there's no uncertainty there._

_If you're wondering why, that's a really stupid question. You're **Chase Young** and I'm **not** supposed to be head-over-heels for you? Get real._

_You're the perfect…everything. I've never seen anybody as gorgeous as you, and I've seen a lot of beautiful models that needed photoshop, dieting, and tons of makeup to get that pretty. You leave them all in the dust by just rolling out of bed in the morning._

_You're the biggest badass I've ever met in my life. There aren't even words for how awesome you are, Chase. The closest I can get is the sound it would make if the lightsabers of Batman and Chuck Norris simultaneously exploded in their battle to the death, with Michael Bay directing, and even that doesn't cover half of it._

_As if that weren't enough, you're fucking brilliant, too. I've been in a lot of robotics guilds in my day and met a hell of a lot of other geniuses and I'm pretty sure it would only take you a few minutes to completely school them all._

_And trust me, I know what I'm talking about: I have a badge._

_If I didn't hate poetry so much, I swear to god, I'd write odes to you. I'd write an opera if I was musically inclined. I'd write a goddamn Odyssey if I had the patience._

_But I hate poetry, I can't write music, and I'm **so **not patient at all. I'm awkward at this sort of crap in person, too. I can't flirt, my timing is terrible, and I can't read other people. Whatever primal instinct thing everybody else has that tells them 'this is how you attract a mate'? Yeah, I don't have that. I really suck at this and believe me, I know it._

_I'm not even sure why I'm writing this. I can't be useful to you, not really. I still lose at Showdowns all the damn time and if I'm being real with myself, I'm not even that good at being evil (pardon the oxymoron)._

_All I know is, I am totally, completely, and hopelessly in love with you and I'm too much of a pussy to even tell you to your face._

_I understand completely if you want nothing to do with me. We can totally carry on with business as usual – meaning no business at all. But keeping all of this bottled up would probably be the death of me._

_Now that I think about it, **not **keeping it bottled up could be the death of me, too, so if you have to kill me now, I absolutely get it._

_Jack_

Jack held the completed letter in his hands and exhaled slowly.

Well. That was certainly honest.

Another Jackbot hovered up to the desk. Its optics focused on the sheet of paper filled with its creator's messy scrawl.

"Shall I mail your letter for you, Master Jack?" it asked.

Jack was very tempted to say no. He could have easily torn it to teeny, tiny shreds, as if he'd never written it. Maybe he _should_…Or maybe he should look it over again and make sure he'd said what he really wanted to say…

He shoved the piece of paper in the robot's face with one sudden, jerky motion. "Take it," he ordered, "before I change my mind."

The Jackbot did so, grasping the letter gently in its claws. "Where shall I send it, Master?"

"You don't have to send it," Jack said. "It's for Chase Young. You can just fly over there and hand-deliver it."

The machine dipped briefly in a bow. "Of course." It then made to leave.

"Wait, JB-354," the albino called in warning before it could exit the room. "Don't stick around after you give him the letter. Whatever he does when he reads that…" he made a face. "I don't want him to take it out on you."

"Understood," 354 replied. "Thank you, Master."

And then, it left Jack alone to wonder if he'd just signed his own death warrant.

As it turned out only an hour and a half later, he had not.

Jack had hundreds of questions, possibly thousands, but with a very insistent Chase Young holding him to the wall of his laboratory and _doing_ things to his neck with his mouth that made the majority of his blood flow _away_ from his brain, only one came out.

"Why?"

Chase paused just long enough to speak. "I appreciate honesty," he said simply, "and I'm very flattered by what you think of me."

It was Jack's only warning before being kissed.

**Three -**

"Jack," Chase declared and he immediately had the goth's full attention.

"Chase!" he exclaimed happily. "You said my name!"

Chase could just _see_ the transformation of Jack's red irises to throbbing love-hearts in his mind's eye, not at all unusual whenever he was around. What _was_ unusual was the lack of eye-rolling and general exasperation on his part.

Instead, there was a pleased smirk on his face as he stepped forward, eyeing the mechanical genius appreciatively.

"Jack," he said again, smirking wider as Jack visibly shivered at the sound of his voice. "I have been watching you for quite some time, now…"

"You have?" Such a statement might've inspired apprehension in a normal human being. Jack, far from normal, looked downright elated.

Chase nodded once. "I must say, I've liked what I've seen." He began walking, moving slowly around Jack in what could only be called a predatory circle. "The quality of your machines has improved," he noted, "your schemes have gotten leagues less inane, and in the past few months, you've actually managed to win several Showdowns." He paused just behind the goth, laying his palms warmly upon his shoulders. "As a villain, you've matured greatly, _Jack._"

Jack shivered again, trying and failing to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. "So, what are you saying?"

"Well," Chase drawled slowly, his tone low and seductive, "I have watched you grow from an inept boy to a very promising, very…attractive young man. I am not one to see such potential squandered, Jack," he murmured just at Jack's ear. "I want to have you for my own. I w—"

"Yes," Jack said, cutting Chase off. "I'm in. Sign me up."

"If you _really_ need more convincing, I –..." Chase stopped and pushed Jack away, spinning him around to face the overlord. Jack found himself fixed him with an odd expression. "Wait," Chase said, sounding puzzled. "Did you just…agree?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"You didn't even hear what I'm asking of you."

"Doesn't matter," Jack shrugged. "You're interested, right?"

"I…yes?"

"So, _Chase Young _is asking for my services, and I'm supposed to stick around for the fine print?" Jack scoffed, even as he smiled with obvious excitement. "Totally don't care about the details. You want me, you've got me."

Chase stared at him for a moment. "You're going to be living in my palace," he said warily, as if testing Spicer's agreement. "I'm asking that you give up _everything_ you hold dear to serve _me_ as I see fit."

"Okay," Jack agreed without hesitation, "lemme just grab some stuff and we can go!"

Chase remained speechless as Jack scurried about his lab collecting various items, only just managing to confirm that he would be providing basic amenities when the question was asked.

Jack came to an abrupt stop as he looked at the pile of items he had gathered. It was small, but obviously too much to carry in his hands alone.

He made for the stairs, offering to Chase, "I've got a bag and a couple more things I want up in my room. I'll only be a few minutes."

It was this statement that snapped the warlord out of whatever stupor he had been in.

"I was trying to seduce you just now," he called out to the retreating Jack, sounding as dismayed as a Heylin badass can manage.

Jack began making his way up the stairs. "Don't worry about doing that," he said. "I'm still seduced from the first time."

Chase blinked. "First time?"

Jack stopped a few steps short of the door out of the basement and turned to meet Chase's stare. "Remember the day we met?" he asked with a grin. "When you caught me and smirked that sexy evil smirk of yours? Seduced for life."

It took quite a lot of Chase's immense composure to keep from gaping openly at the insinuation.

Jack, however, seemed to care little about Chase's reaction to his words. He continued up to his room, excited by the prospect of his new life.

**Four -**

"So. You've done it, then."

It was not a question, but a statement, one made with indifference or perhaps slight anger. Even so, Jack grinned from ear to ear and replied.

"Yup! I saved Iceland and Fiji for last. Total pushovers, really, especially in comparison to the rest. Only took an hour for my bots to occupy 'em completely."

Chase's nose wrinkled, giving him an expression of distaste. "Your method is crude," he said. "You have no finesse whatsoever."

Jack only shrugged. "Crude, sure, but it's effective enough. 'Wreck everything with everything else' is a strategy I picked up playing Age of Mythology." He laughed abruptly. "My favorite units were the Petsuchos. It's kinda funny now that I think about it."

Chase only stared at him. "How so?"

"Petsuchos are crocodiles," Jack explained with a slight nod to Chase. It was clear he was indicating the overlord's dragon form, which strongly resembled a crocodile. "They were worshiped in Egypt as manifestations of the god, Sobek. Y'know, treated like royalty and dressed up in lots of gold and jewels. In the game, they shot lasers. About ten of 'em would be enough to demolish pretty much any building in under a minute."

Chase rolled his eyes. "You truly believe you can conquer the world like that, Spicer?" he demanded to know. "With strategies you derive from _video games_?"

"I already did conquer the world," said Jack. "I even remembered to start in Madagascar. There isn't a country in the world that isn't completely occupied and controlled by my Jackbots—they've all surrendered or been crushed. As for where I get my strategies," he shrugged, "games are great for planning war. Generals used to plan their conquests on chessboards or scale models. Just because the medium is different doesn't mean the idea isn't still the same."

The warlord said nothing.

"Besides," Jack coolly reminded, "my strategies worked on you."

_That_ drew a growl from Chase. He refused to speak, still, but this time, it wasn't that he had no comment to make, but because he was unable to refute the statement.

Yes, Jack's strategies had worked: that was why Chase was here, on his knees in a _cage._ A titanium cage that he could _so easily_ tear through if not for the mystical glow of dragonbane. While confined like this, he had no power beyond that of a mortal martial artist – a very _skilled_ one, but mortal, nonetheless.

He cursed himself for the thousandth time for underestimating Spicer and allowing himself to be caught in the first place.

His catlike eyes traced Jack's every step as he casually wandered through the throne room (_Chase's_ throne room!), pausing every now and again to inspect something a bit closer. The only thing that kept Chase from roaring in absolute fury was that Jack had _not _claimed his palace for his own—yet.

Chase knew very well that it was still possible for the young man to do so. His warriors were nowhere in sight, hopefully still alive, but Chase did not want to rely on that hope. If they _were_ alive, they would have come to their master's aid by now. That they hadn't…

"Spicer."

Jack immediately turned to face him.

"We've seen what happens when you get to rule the world," said Chase. "I'm sure you don't believe you owe me any answers, but I'd like to know if I can expect a repeat performance."

Jack smiled. "You mean, do I plan to imprison the monks and Bean, dress Wuya as a cheerleader, and strip you down and cover you with fluids?"

Chase frowned at the phrasing. "That…would be the gist of it, yes."

"Nah," Jack replied with a shake of his head. "The monks are too dangerous to keep alive, especially in the same prison cell. The only reason that other version of me got away with it, I think, is 'cause they were one short in that timeline. They're already dead in this one."

The warlord's eyes widened. "You—"

"Had them killed, yeah. I figured it was the safest course of action. As for Bean…I think he should go the same way." He met Chase's gaze. "You know firsthand what that thing is like. It would be…better for him to not be around."

"And Wuya?"

"Cheerleader outfit," Jack nodded. "I had to hand it to myself, that was pretty hilarious. She deserves to be taken down a peg or twelve." He spared another glance to his captive. "You'll be getting the same treatment, too—sort of."

A scowl. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Well, in the other universe," Spicer reminded him, "I had you pretty much naked and being painted. This time…I'm hoping for completely naked and fluids that are a lot more fun than paint."

Chase stared at him. "You want me…to be your _sex slave?_" he all but growled.

Jack seemed honestly startled. "Slave? No, nothing like that. I was hoping it'd be a little more consensual."

"I fail to see how that could ever happen with me as your unwilling prisoner."

"This may come as a surprise, Chase," Jack clarified, "but I really have no intention of keeping you in that cage forever."

Chase sneered. "For the rest of _your _lifespan, then?"

"Shouldn't take me that long to explain what this whole thing is all about," his captor shot back. "You're only in there until you hear me out. No matter what your answer is, the cage'll be gone and you can do whatever you want."

"You _captured_ me…so you could make a _proposal_?"

"Well, yeah," Jack said, as if it was obvious. "You wouldn't have bothered listening to me if I hadn't caught you and _proven_ that I'm not the same, weak Jack Spicer I used to be. If not that, you'd have killed me for what you perceived as 'wasting your time.'"

And that, Chase had to concede, was true. There was no faulting Jack's logic there.

Even so, "If you speak the truth, then where are my warriors?"

"The cats?" Jack seemed almost as if he had forgotten them. "They're being detained. The bots I sent aren't authorized to use lethal force, so the worst they can do is tranquilize them. They'll be released as soon as I've said my piece."

Chase met the young man's eyes, reading what he knew of the mechanical genius and his expressions.

Jack was not lying.

"Fine," Chase said imperiously. "Start talking."

Jack smiled brightly at him, a strange expression for the man who had so very recently conquered the entire globe. "There's really not much to say. I want to rule the world with you."

"I am no one's minion, Spicer. If you expect me to serve you, you may consider your offer rejected."

"Who said anything about servitude?"

Chase watched Jack approach the cage he was trapped in, wary.

"I don't want you to serve me, Chase," Jack declared, sincerity in his voice. "You weren't born to serve, you were born to rule. Even _I_ can see that, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"So, then, what _are_ you proposing?" the warlord dubiously wondered.

"It isn't obvious?" That impossibly wide grin was back. "I want you to rule _with_ me. Like a partnership."

"A partnership," Chase repeated.

"Well," Jack delegated, "maybe not a 50-50 thing. You _are _a lot stronger and you have way more experience than me. I'd be willing to take a second-in-command role for awhile until the status gap is closed a little."

"…you're joking."

Jack shook his head. "Completely serious. You're the warlord: you should be doing most of the ruling. I'm more of a lab guy, anyway. I'm better with tactics and equipment—and robots," he winked, "than ruling with an iron fist. Besides, could you imagine how humiliating it would be if somebody tried to challenge me to, like, combat or something for my rule? _Anybody_ could physically wipe the floor with me at this point."

"You're insane," Chase said.

Jack frowned. "Not really. I mean, the way I figure it, I've already pretty much done all the work of, y'know…_conquering_ the world, so all you have to do is step in and rule it for awhile. Not hard for a guy like you, and in the meantime, I can take notes, maybe get some pointers from you…oh, I'll have to figure out eternal youth, too. I've already got something in the works, though, I'm not gonna worry about it. But once I'm at that level, we can definitely both rule."

"And the sex? I'm certain I didn't _imagine_ you mentioning that."

Jack thought for a moment, trying to find an appropriate explanation. "Coregents with benefits?" he tried.

Chase…_looked_ at Jack for a long time, as if he couldn't comprehend him.

Really, he couldn't. The whole offer still sounded absolutely insane.

"Why?" he demanded. "You've literally conquered the world, Spicer. You're in a prime position to destroy all of your enemies. I, the greatest threat to your regime, am in a cage _at your mercy…_ and you're offering _everything_ to me in exchange for becoming what seems to amount to my _apprentice_? Just _what_ are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I'd really like a place by your side," Jack said simply. "And I'm thinking I might be so in love with you that it borders on stupid."

Chase inspected Jack again. Again, there was only honesty in his eyes.

Eventually, he gathered his thoughts enough to form a workable sentence. "You, Spicer," he said slowly, "have a _very_ extravagant way of asking for a date."

Jack chuckled. "I figured flowers and chocolate were overdone," he joked. "Besides, the world was the only gift I could think of for the warlord who has everything else."

Chase smirked. "Charming. Though I could really do without the cage."

White fingers reached into a coat pocket, procuring a key. "Before I let you out, I'm curious: are you gonna kill me or say yes?"

"You'll find out."

Jack almost reconsidered, but he had given Chase his word: he had made his offer and Chase had heard it through to the end. To go back on his promise _now_…

Well. That would hardly be honorable and if there was anything Jack's idol respected, it was an honor code.

Chase was incredibly pleased when the cage door swung open. He wasted no time in stepping out and rendering it to nothing more than scrap metal with one, solid punch.

His gaze then flickered over to Jack, who was staring at the wreckage with obvious unease. He wondered if he was about to meet a similar fate. He wondered if he should be running right about now.

Chase decided to end his wondering.

Jack gasped with a thrill of fear as a large hand closed around his throat. His brain briefly tortured him with visions of being choked to death and the sickening crunch it would make when Chase snapped his neck.

It was only when a pair of lips descended upon his that he realized Chase's hand was not squeezing with even the slightest bit of pressure.

Kissing back tentatively, more eagerly once he realized it wasn't a trick, Jack let his hands find their way to Chase's hips. The metal of the armor skirting was cool against his palms and the sensation grounded him enough to not be completely lost in the kiss.

Jack pulled away and smiled sheepishly up at the dragonlord. "You scared me for a minute there," he admitted, referring to the hand still holding his neck.

Chase smirked. "I meant to. That was for putting me in a cage, Spicer. I didn't appreciate it in the least."

"Sorry," said Jack. "I swear, it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. If it does, I think I really _will_ kill you."

Jack understood that he was serious and nodded. "So…you're onboard with this? Coregents with benefits?"

"I could certainly do worse." Chase eyed Jack for a moment, quite liking what appeared to be slender muscle tone instead of the gangly awkwardness of years previous. The white and red of his coloring were very pleasing to the eyes, as well. "_Much_ worse. But I do have two qualifiers before I accept your offer."

Jack tilted his head curiously. "Yeah?"

Chase nodded. "One: My warriors are to be released back into my command."

"You got it." Jack removed a device from his coat and typed a few commands into it before replacing it in an inside pocket. "They didn't go peacefully, obviously, so they did end up tranquilized. Soon as they wake up, they're yours again."

Chase gave a pleased smirk, but quickly returned to the matter at hand. "Qualifier Number Two, of course, is that Bean is _mine _to kill. I will not accept his death at anyone's hands but my own."

"Fair enough. He's kinda scary: I'd actually _prefer _it if you'd handle him." He seemed to consider something before asking, "And Wuya? You're okay with…?"

"Cheerleader outfit," Chase nodded. "Absolutely humiliating. It's perfect as is."

"Fine by me," Jack laughed. He then seemed to recall his close proximity to Chase and offered him a mischievous looking smirk. "So…that 'with benefits' part. Does that start later, or…?"

"Now works," Chase decided, dipping back down for another kiss.

**Five -**

"You had better have an _excellent _reason for this, Spicer," Chase said. "I was just about to have dinner."

Jack smiled at him. "Don't worry, it shouldn't take long. I've just got something to ask you that I've been meaning to for…well, a couple of years at least."

Chase resisted the urge to sigh. "Out with it, then," he said with a wave of his hand. "I may have an eternity to live, but I don't have all day."

"Sure, right," said Jack, "I gotcha."

To say the least, Chase was…surprised when Jack got down on one knee before him.

"Spicer?"

Jack said nothing and removed a small velvet box from his pocket. "Chase Young," he said solemnly, opening the box, "will you marry me?"

Inside the box was a ring, gold in a masculine style featuring a curved and ovular gem at the center. By the stone's array of colors and its scale-like crackle beneath a smooth, protective glaze, it had to be ammolite, currently one of the rarest gemstones in the world. Among practitioners of Feng Shui, it was even known as a prosperity stone for the traditional meaning behind the seven colors it possessed and its supposed ability to improve the flow of the wearer's chi.

It was a very handsome (and lovely) ring.

"No," said Chase. "I completely refuse."

Jack's face fell just a bit. The box was closed and put away. "Damn, I figured as much," he said, sounding somewhat disheartened. He quickly perked up, however, to ask, "How about having babies with me, then?"

Chase made a face. "That's impossible, and even if it weren't," he added at the hopeful look in Spicers' eyes, "the answer would still be no."

"Okay, okay," said Jack, getting back to his feet. "How about moving in together?"

"What? _No,_" Chase denied. "_Absolutely _not!"

"What about meeting my parents?"

"No!"

"Jeez," Jack put his hands on his hips, "you drive a hard bargain. Go steady for a couple of years?"

"I maintain my position, Spicer: _no._"

"Alright, how 'bout if we just have sex once or twice a week?"

"_Where_ are these questions coming from, Jack?" Chase demanded. "And _no, _again."

"It's just a yes or no question, Chase, no need to get mad about it." Jack then appeared to think for a moment. "Okay, final offer: a one night stand right now."

"Spicer!" Chase snapped, clearly irritated. "You _will_ stop these questions!"

"In a minute," Jack said. "Final _final_ offer, dinner and a movie tomorrow night."

"_No,_ dammit," Chase growled.

Jack's hands came up in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, fine, I get it: you're not interested."

Chase sighed, his shoulders dropping from their tensed position. "_Good._ Now, please, Spicer, _leave_ before I maim you horribly."

"Soon as I know we're on for coffee this Friday."

Chase was tense again in an instant and a bestial snarl tore from his throat. Frustrated beyond all belief, he threw his hands up in exasperation. "_Fine,_ Spicer!" he barked. "_Yes!_ Just _go,_ already!"

In the face of the unholy wrath of Chase Young, laughing was the last thing expected of someone and yet all of a sudden, that was precisely was Jack was doing.

Wary, not sure he really wanted to know at all, Chase couldn't help but open his mouth. "What's so funny?"

Jack smiled at him. "I only _came _here hoping for a coffee date," he happily explained. "I just said all that other stuff so it would seem more reasonable in comparison."

Chase's expression was completely blank at this news. His only outward sign of emotion was a singular irritated twitch of his eye.

Jack chuckled again at the very-much-provoked warlord and turned to leave. "I'll be by to pick you up around noon," he declared. "And I think I'll hang on to that ring." One red eye winked playfully. "Never know if I might need it again someday…"

Chase did not follow and Jack left the volcanic stronghold in peace. Feeling an oncoming tension headache, he finally gave in to the compulsion to sigh deeply and run his fingers through his hair.

Even so, he couldn't keep the barest hint of a grin off his face as he spoke to the empty room. "_Damn_ that boy…"

**Six -**

Jack awoke to the undeniably odd sensation of someone climbing into bed with him.

His own instincts surprised him for once and at this development, the fog of sleep dispelled quickly from his mind as his body tensed and rolled away from the intruder. An arm seized him by the waist and panic began to set in, but before he could open his mouth to scream (and maybe stun the attacker with the destruction of their eardrums), he was interrupted.

"No need for all that, Spicer," he heard at his ear. "The hour is far too late for it."

Jack froze. "_Chase_?"

"How astute of you," praised the warlord. "Now, go back to sleep."

Understandably baffled, Jack did nothing of the kind, even as Chase settled _far_ too casually amongst sheets and pillows that were not his. He stared for a few seconds through the darkness of the room, but his vision was too poor to see anything but a vague outline of the man and the arm still around his middle prevented him from reaching for the nearby lamp.

Jack wondered if he really should still be struggling, but mostly, he was just confused.

"Um…Chase," he said slowly. "Why are you in my bed?" He inhaled sharply with sudden horror. "Oh, god, I didn't miss something fun, did I?"

Chase's eyes flickered open, looking annoyed. The supernatural glow they held made the look more menacing, but Jack did not miss the fact that his idol looked _very_ tired. "No," he said, "you've missed nothing. As for why, I was _trying_ to sleep. I would appreciate it if you would be silent and do the same."

Again, it seemed to strike Jack that Chase was being very blasé about this whole strange, _strange_ affair.

"Do you come here often?" he asked, hastily rephrasing at the recurrence of the nasty look. "I mean, is this, like, a regular thing for you? Sleeping…in my bed?"

Chase closed his eyes again. "It occurs with some degree of regularity," he admitted. "But I hardly see how that is a matter of any immediate concern."

"…_seriously_?"

"You talk far too much for 2:00 AM," Chase declared. The arm around Jack's waist tightened and he was yanked back down to the bed, his back to the dragonlord.

_Completely_ bewildered, now, Jack did not fight it. "Why?" he managed to ask.

"I have my reasons."

"Which are…?"

"Currently irrelevant." Jack flinched when he felt himself being spooned (by _Chase Young_ at _two in the morning,_ what the _hell_?). "I would greatly enjoy it if you would be silent, now."

Really unable to do anything else at this point, Jack obeyed. Faced with the sudden realization that his Heylin idol of many years was a snuggler and wanted to do so with him was far too weird to process much else. Combined with the fact that this was apparently not the _first_ time such an incident had occurred…

Well, Jack highly doubted his ability to get to sleep anytime soon.

Chase, as if sensing his tension, sighed deeply. "There is a lunar event that affects those of us deeply tied to the Heylin," he began.

"Once every thousand years?" Jack guessed.

"A good guess," Chase said wryly, "but I'm afraid it's annual: every hunter's moon, the lunar light becomes imbued with Xiaolin properties that quite disturb us on the side of evil."

"What, like…insomnia?"

Jack felt Chase shake his head slightly. "Not quite. The moon puts a damper on our magic while the goodness inherent in the light psychologically unnerves us enough that sleep becomes an impossibility. By the time morning comes, one such as myself would be easy pickings for any Xiaolin that think to challenge me if I were unable to make myself sleep beforehand."

"So, how do I help that?" Jack wondered, for Chase surely wasn't here just because the bed was comfortable.

"You, Spicer," Chase explained, "are in a unique position. You are _not_ Heylin," Jack frowned at that, "but you're far from Xiaolin. I would call you neutral ground, but you _do _have evil leanings—just not specifically Heylin ones."

"And…being around me helps you?"

Chase made a noise of assent. "Your presence would prove calming to _any_ powerful Heylin on this night, but I have long since made it known that you are claimed."

Jack paused. "Claimed…?"

"Yes," said the warlord. "For several years, I've had…_dibs_ on you, as you might say."

Jack's eyes widened with abrupt realization. "So _that's_ why Wuya cancelled our annual sleepovers!"

Chase snorted, tired, but obviously amused. "Well," he said eventually, "not that I need it, but with your permission, I'd very much like to sleep now—if you're finally done speaking."

Jack laid back down. "Yeah, sure," he agreed, "as long as you aren't gonna snore."

"I _don't_ snore," Chase promised. "You do."

"No, I don't."

"Believe me, Jack, you do. Only occasionally, but you do."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Y'know, this being my first time in bed with a hot guy while aware of it, I gotta say: I'm disappointed that we're talking about my nasal noises and neither of us is naked. Just saying."

Chase grinned behind him. "If that's an attempt at a come on, Spicer, it's terrible. However, I'd be happy to remedy that problem in the morning after I've slept at least a little."

Jack froze. "Whuh…seriously?"

"Do I joke?"

"_Do_ you?"

"I don't know," Chase said airily, pausing only to yawn. "I imagine you'll find out in the morning."

Chase snuggled closer against Jack and said nothing more.

Jack, on the other hand, was pretty sure he wouldn't be sleeping for awhile yet.

**Seven -**

It was with no small amount of trepidation that Jack approached the mysterious box.

His bots had recently brought it in, having found it on the front porch. The fact that it had made it there, past the well-guarded fence of the Spicer estate _and _the security system that should have at least recorded an intruder was enough to greatly unnerve Jack.

Several scans had been done on the long, rectangular package on the goth's orders, and yet they all proved inconclusive. There was no trace of any mechanical workings, explosive devices, or even radiation.

It was just…a box with something inside.

For a brief instant, Jack had wondered if his father might've sent him a gift without letting him know ahead of time, but the thought was quickly dismissed. Martin Spicer had stopped sending trinkets to his son years ago when he realized that Jack far better appreciated envelopes of money now and again to fund his projects.

"Are you _sure_ it's not gonna kill me?" Jack asked a nearby robot, glancing between it and the package.

"Our scans indicated that it wouldn't explode, Master Jack," said the automaton, "not that it wouldn't kill you."

Jack glared. "Either your literal interpretation is stuck in overdrive or you're looking to get your sarcasm chip removed," he snapped.

With the strong feeling that the robot would be giving him a shit-eating grin if he'd built it with the capability, Jack watched it leave the room before turning his attention back to the box.

There were a few people he knew that would have been able to sneak something like this past his home's defenses. Unfortunately, the suspects were all Heylin, none of which Jack seemed to have a very good rapport with. The monks _could_ have done it, but they were enemies, too (and besides, they had a very powerful penchant for leaving holes in his walls, not sneaking around).

Whatever this…thing was probably didn't bode well.

Jack sighed. "Well," he said to no one, "if it's gonna kill me, it's gonna kill me."

Acting on impulse before he had a chance to reconsider, he reached for the box, carefully tearing off the nondescript wrapping paper to reveal a cardboard box sealed with packing tape.

It just so happened that Jack had a box cutter on hand for the occasion, which he used to cut straight through the tape.

Cautiously, he opened it and glanced inside.

"The Monkey Staff?" Jack removed the object in question, smiling despite himself. As always, the Shen Gong Wu felt so very _right_ in his hands and he was glad to be reunited with it.

Which brought to mind the conditions of his separation from it in the first place.

"Hang on," he said aloud, eyeing the Staff with a measure of suspicion. "The monks took you. How the hell did you end up here?"

Of course, the Wu had no answer for him, leaving him to turn back to the box it'd come in.

A minute or two of inspection yielded no clues. The wrapping paper was plain, the box had no markings on it to indicate its source, and obviously, there had been no postage or return address on it in the first place.

Curious in spite of his wariness, Jack looked inside the package once more to see if he'd missed anything. After feeling through the small sea of packing peanuts, he was rewarded when his fingers felt the texture of paper.

Following the Monkey Staff as the second thing to be removed from the box was a small note written in a script Jack did not recognize.

_Congratulations on making it to eighteen years, Jack. Knowing your lifestyle, it can't have been an easy accomplishment._

Jack paused upon reading that. It _was _his birthday, wasn't it? He wasn't used to a big deal ever being made out of it. It must have slipped his mind.

_According to law, you are now an adult in your own right. As far as society is concerned, you are finally able to make decisions regarding the rest of your life. In light of that, I believe you are ready._

Frowning as the note ended there, Jack turned it over looking for further explanation. It was blank.

"Ready for what?" he wondered aloud.

"Me."

Jack whirled about, finding himself face to face with none other than Chase Young.

"Chase!" he exclaimed. "You…I…what?"

"As eloquent as that was," the warlord said, "allow me to explain. Yes, it was I who sent you the Monkey Staff."

"What for?"

"For your birthday," Chase said as if it were obvious. "You may consider it my first gift to you as my apprentice."

Jack eyes went wide. "_Apprentice_?"

Chase nodded. "You offered yourself to me for the same position years ago," he reminded. "You were too young. You had no life experience whatsoever. Your parents were still somewhat involved in your life enough to conceivably hassle me over your disappearance. It would have been inconvenient to take you as an apprentice, then."

"And now?"

"Convenient," Chase said with a smirk. "Like I said, you are an adult capable of making your own decisions. I trust now that if you say you wish to serve me, it will not be mere childish fancy: you will mean it completely. And if you do choose to accept and become my apprentice, your mother and father have no legal control over you to keep you from doing so."

"Since when do you adhere to mortal laws?" was all Jack could think to say.

"Never," assured the dragonlord, "but mortals tend to. This way, your parents ought to stay out of my hair."

Jack smiled. "I really don't think you'd have to worry. I haven't even seen _mom_ in almost a year, now."

"Yes, well, either way, I'm going to need an answer from you, Spicer."

Abruptly, Jack regarded his idol with a suspicious gaze. "It's my birthday," he said warily. "This isn't a prank, is it?"

The statement might not have made sense to those who didn't know the date, but Chase was fully aware that it was the first of April, commonly known as April Fool's day (an unfortunate birthday, to be sure). "It's not a prank," he promised. "You have my word. Now, do you accept or not?"

Jack grinned wide enough that he was liable to injure something. Without warning, Chase found himself with an armful of Spicer when the teenager leaped onto him, arms wrapped around his neck.

"Hell yes," Jack declared happily. "Consider yourself stuck with me!"

Chase mused briefly on the fact that while he had only just taken the goth as his apprentice, he was already _more_ than used to holding Spicer this way. He smirked.

"Somehow, I think that was already the case…"

**Eight -**

"What in all the hells are you _wearing,_ Spicer?"

Jack glanced down at himself. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Despite the name of the article," Chase proclaimed, "a suit does _not_ suit you at all."

And it most certainly didn't. Dressed in finery of the upper class, Jack _should _have looked sophisticated; elegant in at least some fashion. With the young man's clear unease in wearing high end clothing, however, it only accentuated his usual awkwardness.

He shifted from shiny dress-shoed foot to shiny dress-shoed foot frequently. The slight padding in the suit jacket created a broad-shouldered look entirely at odds with Jack's lean, slender frame. The colors weren't even right! Certainly, the black was normal but the shirt beneath was too white and nearly blended with deathly pale skin and the tie was _precisely_ the shade of red that clashed most with both the napalm orange of Jack's hair and the cherry red of his eyes.

"Trust me," snapped Jack, sounding unsettled and anxious and angry all at once, "this was _not _my idea."

In all his years of knowing Spicer, not once had the genius been…_upset_…enough to speak to his beloved idol thusly. It was an intriguing thought and Chase suddenly found himself wanting to know why.

"_What _was not your idea, Jack?" Chase questioned. "And just what is it you've come here for?"

The dragonlord watched as Spicer set his jaw in determination, even as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, the very picture of uncertainty. What contradiction Jack embodied, truly.

"I…I need your help," Jack said, refusing to meet Chase's eyes. "I'm…supposed to get married in about an hour."

Chase stilled. "Married," he repeated slowly. "To whom?"

Jack shook his head. "Some chick," he said. "I don't really know her."

"And yet, you're marrying her."

"_Not_ my idea," Jack reminded a second time. "My parents…they pretty much set the whole thing up. I think it's supposed to be a glorified business deal or something."

Chase resisted the urge to sneer and only slightly succeeded. "An arranged marriage in this day and age?"

He made no mention of the fact that his irritation stemmed mostly from the fact that such a marriage was pulling Jack away from him, _just_ as he had been planning to finally make his move.

Jack, however, rolled his eyes. "People like to pretend we're all enlightened and it doesn't happen anymore, but it does. Especially when rich people are involved."

"You say you need my help," Chase spoke coldly. "If you want me as a best man for the ceremony binding you to some strange woman, the answer is no."

"What? No, no, it's nothing like that," Jack promised. "I'm…honestly hoping it won't even get that far…"

Chase looked at Jack. "Explain," he ordered.

Jack fixed him with a very serious, very sincere, utterly _pleading _look right back.

"Please talk me out of this," he said.

The dragonlord was able to veil his surprise at the statement well enough, and Jack continued.

"I really, really, _really_ don't want to do this," the albino said with a shake of his head. "I don't even _know_ this girl. I mean, I can't even remember if her name is Amy or Angelica or…or Anna… I don't even think I _like_ girls, and now I'm supposed to get married to one?"

A shaky hand ran through neatly combed hair, unintentionally mussing it back into its usual style.

"The problem is, I don't know if I can get out of it now. My parents, her parents, _her_…they're all expecting me to…" Jack broke off with a frustrated growl. "I just figured if there's anyone who can _really _talk me out of it at this point, it's you, Chase."

"Me? And what reason would I have to do that?"

"I…I don't know," Jack admitted, a little desperately. "But I thought…I hoped that maybe…"

For the first time since hearing news of the wedding, the hint of a smirk tugged at Chase's lips. So, Jack was _not_ too far beyond his reach, after all.

"You aren't heterosexual," he declared. He immediately had Jack's full attention. "I can tell by the way your body reacts to others. You have never expressed any kind of instinctual desire around females, and yet a sufficiently attractive member of the same sex has always been able to pique your interest."

Jack did not seem surprised by the statement. Instead, he gave a sigh of relief. "So, I _am _gay…"

"As the day is long," Chase assured. "Binding yourself in marriage to a woman would most definitely be a mistake. Without sexual attraction, the best you could hope for would be platonic love and if you can manage it, a few offspring to call your own."

Jack snorted. "I hate kids. They're loud and always sticky with something."

Chase grinned: Jack really _did_ want to be talked out of this. "Children were always the intention in marrying you off," he pointed out. "Your parents are merely using you—your life and your future – as a bargaining chip in business dealings. They hardly have _your _best interests at heart."

"Right," Jack agreed. "So, fuck them. I don't have to do what they tell me."

"Of course you don't," said Chase. "You are intelligent enough to know what is right for you. Getting married to a girl you don't know isn't it."

"Yeah!" Jack chuckled derisively to himself. "Pairing us off doesn't just suck for me, it would fuck up her life, too. I'm _not_ giving up Showdowns or plans for world domination for anybody. There's no _way_ she could handle that!"

Chase nodded in agreement. "She, too, would be trapped in a loveless marriage, knowing that her husband's heart belongs to another."

"Yea—…what?"

Jack looked very startled just then, and very confused and Chase was more than happy to elucidate.

"Please respect my intelligence, Spicer," he said. "I have seen the way you looked at me over the years. I may have started as your idol and nothing more, but we both know that I am more to you than that."

Jack stared at him. "You…"

"Knew? Of course." Chase raised an eyebrow. "Who did you think I was speaking of when I brought up 'sufficiently attractive members of the same sex'? You _ooze_ pheromones around me, Jack. Don't think I hadn't noticed."

Jack's white cheeks burned and finally, something matched the bright red of his tie. "I'm…sorry," he muttered eventually. "I didn't think you knew…_I_ didn't even know."

"Don't apologize," the warlord said nonchalantly. "Seeing the fine young man you've at last grown into, I can honestly say that I am flattered by your admiration of me."

Jack shook his head, looking incredulously at Chase. "Are you…you're saying that…you, too…?"

Chase said nothing.

"Holy crap," breathed Jack, "this is…sudden."

"I had been planning to reveal as much to you gradually to lessen the shock," Chase lamented. "Unfortunately, I was not sent an invitation for your wedding and was unaware of it until today. Thus, it must happen before _either_ of us were completely expecting it."

Jack appeared to be processing his thoughts for a bit. "_Really_?" was all he came up with.

Chase merely shrugged, a very un-warlord-like gesture. "You wanted me to talk you out of your impending marriage," he said. "I am simply giving you the best motivation I can think of."

Jack gave a short laugh. "Some motivation!"

There was a silence between them, filled only by a very mild tension.

Chase, of course, was the one to break it. "What will you do, Spicer? Knowing what you do now?"

Jack took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. When he turned to face Chase once more, he was smiling.

"You have to ask?"

Not twenty minutes later, a wealthy young woman by the name of Tabitha was sobbing loudly at the altar. Her furious mother and father were yelling vigorously at a mortified Sylvia Spicer while in the background, Martin Spicer was muttering all sorts of violent threats regarding his son with a piece of paper crumpled in his fist.

If one were to smooth it out and make the attempt to read it, it would go something like this:

_Hey everybody, I just wanted to let you know that I'm not marrying what's-her-face. As it turns out, I'm gay and have decided to elope with my brand new evil dragon boyfriend. Sorry, but thems the breaks. Even though there's not gonna be a wedding, feel free to still eat the cake. There's really nothing worse than a wasted cake. Bye for probably ever, Jack._

**...**

**A/N: Hey, look! It's a ridiculously overdue birthday fic! Like, two months and now that it's after midnight, one day after Silvarbelle's actual birthday.**

**I really should've started this damn thing earlier, huh? XD**

**Anyway, my page has been a 'posting stuff' dead zone for awhile and part of that was because real life has me kind of busy lately and part of it was because I was working on this massive thing.**

**What's that you say? It's not that massive? Well, that's because this is only Part 1. Part 1 of probably about 3 or 4, because this whole thing is about _200 pages long._**

**I guess that's what happens when you try to envision 33 different ways Chase Young and Jack Spicer could get together in honor of your friend who turned 33 awhile back. XD**

**Anywho, let's get on with the show!**

**_One -_Because Wuya is totally bad in bed. XD**

**_Two -_No comment.**

**_Three -_Poor Chase. Shot down in the middle of a seduction. XD**

**_Four -_...I've been playing a lot of Age of Mythology lately. I kept thinking about the Petsuchos and killing everything with everything else, and one thing led to another. XD**

**_Five -_Oh, Jack. One of these days, you're gonna annoy someone to the point of killing you and then Chase is going to have to get his gloves dirty killing them for attempting to hurt you.**

**_Six -_ ...Jack _would_ fail to question Wuya's motive for annual sleepovers, wouldn't he?**

**_Seven -_No comment.**

**_Eight -_ I don't know why, I just like the idea of Jack ditching someone at the altar because dude, it's _Chase. _XD**

**And there you have it, folks: Part 1 of 33 Ways. Stay tuned for the other installments, too, and thanks for reading! ;P**


	2. Nine to Thirteen

**33 Ways (Jack Could've Hooked Up With Chase)**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, implications of sexual situations, etc.**

**...**

**Nine -**

"Hey, Chase!"

The warlord glanced over from the leisurely stroll he'd been taking on his porch. The sight of Jack Spicer approaching his stronghold was a usual one and Chase did not react with anything more than an acknowledging look.

In contrast, Jack smiled broadly at him and touched down on the mouth of the palace's entrance.

Chase immediately knew that something was wrong.

"Are you alright, Spicer?" he asked.

Jack looked puzzled. "Fine," the goth teenager said. "Why?"

"Your landing was a bit heavier than usual," Chase noted.

And it most certainly was. In all the times Jack had visited him (which numbered many), his landings had never been louder than the soft 'tmp' of his boots meeting stone just before the mechanical noise of blades retracting into his helipack. Today, the order had been reversed and those clunky boots made contact with the mountain ledge with the full weight of Jack's body behind them, unsupported by the flying contraption.

To a man with superhuman hearing, the difference in volume was very noticeable.

"Sorry," Jack said with a sheepish grin, "I'm…a little nervous today. It must be messing with my flying."

Chase made a noise of assent, but he was fully aware that that didn't sound right, either. From day one, it had been obvious to him that Jack was at home in the sky. His body language in flight spoke of a practiced ease he didn't have on land and every motion seemed to come from instinct.

Even if Jack _was_ on edge about something, Chase knew that it shouldn't have affected Jack's flying.

Nonetheless, he made no mention of it.

"What brings you here today, Spicer?" he asked instead. "Scheming something you'd like my input on again?"

"No, nothing like that," Jack said hastily, and Chase found that, too, was odd as Spicer had never been one to pass up an opportunity to tell his idol _all_ about his current works. "It…well, it has to do with why I'm nervous."

Jack said nothing further and Chase gave a single nod, prompting him to continue.

"Well," he went on, "mom was being a bitch, so I had to get out of the house for awhile."

Wrong. From all Jack had spoken about his mother, Chase had been able to put together a reasonable interpretation of an airheaded, high-society woman, occasionally neglectful of her son in frequent absences, but overall loving. Even if such a woman were capable of 'being a bitch,' it was unlike Jack to speak of her in such a way.

"I did some thinking," said Jack. "A lot of thinking. And I knew I just had to see you today."

Chase eyed the young man with growing, well-veiled suspicion. "For what purpose?"

Jack smiled at him. "I…like you, Chase," he admitted.

And finally, that sounded more like Spicer.

"You're a really great guy. I mean, you're handsome and strong and cool… I've never met somebody like you before and…well, it's gonna sound stupid, but I think I might be in love with you."

Wrong again. Jack was _not_ comfortable with romance or anything related. He had lived too long as a self-and-socially-isolated loner with only robots for company. He was not one to speak so casually of love. If he _could_ work up the guts to confess his obvious infatuation with Chase, he would certainly be _painfully _awkward about it.

"Do you really?" Chase responded.

"I do," Jack declared happily, "and I just really wanted to tell you. And to…well, to do _this_ before I lose the nerve."

Three strikes, you're out because not-Jack was kissing him, something the _real _Jack would never so boldly initiate, not with the man he respected and feared and adored so deeply.

Even so, Chase played along for the moment, laying his hands on the impostor's hips. Though quite distracted by kissing, the minute shifting of not-Jack's hips spoke to him of power and control, the sort one can only learn in study of the martial arts.

The one pretending to be Jack was a fighter.

The mouth against Chase's was smooth, too. Whoever it was had certainly not been aware in imitating Spicer that he frequently suffered from chapped lips _or_ that he was an albino and not simply pale-skinned. The scent of sun block Chase usually smelt upon Jack's skin (a necessary precaution against sunburn whenever he left his basement lair and especially on sunny days like this one) was nowhere to be found.

The one pretending to be Jack did not know him very well.

Chase kissed back and was rewarded with hands daintily touching his shoulders. The impostor's lips were uncharacteristically submissive for a young man like Jack and the moan 'he' released was downright feminine.

The one pretending to be Jack was almost certainly a woman.

Chase pushed 'Jack' away. "Nice try."

He was met with a wounded look. "Wh…what are you talking about, Chase? You don't think I'm being serious?"

The dragonlord snorted. "Your attempt to dupe me was admirable enough," he said, "but you can give it up now, Tohomiko."

'Jack' looked positively shocked for a moment. Then, "God _dammit!_"

The white-skinned, red-haired boy melted away, leaving a black-haired, blue-eyed girl in his place. In her hand, she held the Moby Morpher.

"What gave me away?" she demanded to know. "Was it the helipack? It was, wasn't it? Ugh, I don't know _how_ he makes using that thing look so easy! I practiced for _hours_ and you _still_ caught me!"

"Don't insult my intelligence," said Chase. "That was only one of many inconsistencies with Spicer's usual behavior. Of course, I _am_ more than a little curious as to what you hoped to gain by seducing me in the first place."

Kimiko sighed, folding her arms. "Raimundo and I got in a fight," she huffed. "I wanted to prove that I didn't need him by making it with the sexiest guy we both know."

Chase smirked.

Kim glared at him. "Don't let it go to your head," she snapped. "Anyway, you're Heylin. I knew you wouldn't want anything to do with a Xiaolin monk, so I used the Moby Morpher to change."

"And why choose Spicer?" Chase wondered. "Certainly I have not seemed overly interested in him before."

"No," said the dragon of fire, "but Wuya's _old_ and you would've been too suspicious of Katnappé. I couldn't think of anybody else Heylin who _hadn't_ been bludgeoned near death with the ugly stick. Besides," she added, "Jack has such a crush on you. You're _used _to him being all touchy-feely with you."

"Be that as it may," said Chase, "I can assure you that your plan has failed. I will not be used to make Pedrosa jealous, most of all by you. I would suggest you leave my home before I escort you back to yours and tell your _boyfriend _just what you've been up to."

"You _wouldn't._"

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't I? I'd certainly love to hear what Pedrosa has to say upon discovering that you _can't_ get sex from another man— disguised as one _or_ as a woman."

Kimiko flushed, indignant and embarrassed. Even so, the Moby Morpher was quickly reactivated and the girl took the arbitrary shape of a bird and fled from the volcanic fortress.

Chase watched her go and pondered her failed attempt. Of course, even if he hadn't known it was Tohomiko, it would not have worked. Chase was a difficult man to seduce. If it had truly been Jack attempting to get him into bed, with all his awkward fumbling and shyness, he would have failed miserably.

And yet, the warlord was struck with a sudden disappointment at the fact that it _hadn't_ been Jack trying to seduce him.

Which was most definitely odd. That it wasn't Jack attempting his seduction should have relieved him greatly, but instead, it left him with a feeling of being let down; as if he would've much preferred seeing Jack try.

Come to think of it, for one who claimed to hate Spicer, only mildly irritated by him at the best of times, Chase realized that he knew far too much about him. It was very small gestures that had tipped him off regarding Tohomiko, but he couldn't have known they were wrong if he hadn't known so much about Jack's personal quirks in the first place.

Chase frowned, contemplating it for only a moment before heading back inside.

The _real _Jack's visits came every other day. He would be by to see his idol tomorrow for sure and in the meantime, Chase could think further about the meaning of today's strange incident and why he was now positive that he would not shun Spicer's advances if he were to ever make one.

**Ten -**

_Really,_ Chase thought to himself with tightly controlled fury, _it is high time I destroy the Sphere of Yun._

Trapped _again_ by the godsdamned Wu (and _how_ could he have let that happen?), the warlord was helpless to do anything but glare at the Xiaolin monk in current control of all his powers and possessions.

Had it been anyone else, the wickedly nasty look would have provoked at least _some _level of pants-shitting terror. Chase had centuries in which to practice his evil glares, after all.

However, Raimundo Pedrosa was too self-assured in his victory, too arrogant to be intimidated.

"Not so tough, now, are you, Chase?" he taunted with a grin.

Chase refused to even dignify it with a response.

"Gotta say," the monk laughed, "I like you a whole lot better like this. It's like going to see a tiger at the zoo. It looks like it wants to kill you, but it can't do a thing."

Chase bared his teeth in a growl.

Fearless of it, Raimundo came closer, making eye contact. "Y'know," he said, "I think you should _stay_ that way."

"You _cannot_ keep me here forever!" Chase snapped at him.

"Not forever," the wind dragon agreed, "but a pretty damn long time, I figure. Think of all the good us monks could do in a couple decades with you out of commission. Not to mention that all your stuff is mine."

Rai glanced around at the palatial abode, at rare and ancient objects and a smattering of jungle cats before smirking.

"I bet I could sell it off and donate the money to _charity,_" he emphasized the word on purpose just to see Chase cringe with loathing. "Those cats of yours should go for a lot: some of 'em are endangered."

"You will _not,_" Chase snarled at him. "They are _my_ warriors!"

"Mine now," corrected Rai. As if to prove it, a black jaguar stalked forward and sat at his side, calm and purring as the Brazilian stroked a hand over its head.

Truly, Chase _burned_ to see his most trusted Diol submitting to a monk, but he could not blame him for lack of loyalty. There was a glazed look in the feline's yellow eyes, clearly induced by the magic of the Sphere of Yun. Diol was not in control of his actions at this point.

"You will suffer for this," Chase promised, his tone low and deadly. "No matter how long it takes, I _will_ see that you pay…"

Pedrosa snorted at him, as if amused. "What can you do?" he chuckled. "Big bad Chase Young is _helpless_ as long as I have this," he held up the Wu in question. "And it's not exactly like you can take it away from me."

"Maybe I should take a crack at it, then."

Chase and Raimundo turned simultaneously to face the intruder.

Chase frowned in displeasure. Raimundo grinned widely.

"Spicer!" he greeted. "Come to see your evil hero finally defeated by good?"

"No." Both Chase and Rai found serious expression Jack wore quite incongruent with his usual behavior. "I came to take _that _from you."

Rai glanced at the Sphere of Yun and back to Jack. He laughed. "Come on, Spicer," he said, "you don't want to do that. I may not have my friends right now, but I've got _all_ of Chase's power _and _his warriors." On cue, the jungle cats in the room turned to Jack and snarled menacingly. "You can't even touch me."

Jack, for once, did not appear terrified of the cats. He merely looked at them one by one before meeting Raimundo's gaze. "Too much of a pussy to take me one-on-one?" he guessed.

The monk's jaw dropped. Chase found, to his dismay, that the only thought he could manage was, _Oh, snap._

"From the looks of things," the goth continued, "you weren't even brave enough to take Chase head on. There's no way he'd have gotten caught by that thing again if he'd seen it coming."

And that was true. Pedrosa's attack _had _been cowardly, when Chase's back was turned.

"That's none of your business, Jack!" exclaimed Raimundo.

"You're only saying that 'cause you know I'm right." Chase wondered briefly where Jack had found such a bold attitude. "It just seems kinda lame that you basically sucker punched Chase but won't fight _me._"

Rai quickly recovered from his shock at the statement and _glared._ The cats immediately backed off and once more became observers. "You want to go, then, _viado_?" he said with a crack of his knuckles. "Let's go."

Chase was unsurprised to see Jack take the first hit. Despite his sudden bravado, he was still very weak in the martial arts and did not know enough of them to defend against the solid punch to the gut that Raimundo opened with.

Even so, it did seem odd to the warlord that Jack didn't even _try_ to dodge it.

Jack doubled over when the fist connected with his stomach, the breath quite soundly knocked out of him. He only had enough time to grunt in pain before a roundhouse kick caught him in the shoulder and sent him sprawling across the marble floor.

Rai approached him at a leisurely pace. Chase watched him do so and found himself wishing that Jack would get up. It shouldn't particularly matter to him who won this scuffle: both options resulted in his power and possessions belonging to another, and the likely winner was obvious besides.

But if it were Spicer who ultimately won the Sphere of Yun, he might actually stand a chance at escaping sometime this decade.

Jack _did_ manage to get his feet under him, but Chase couldn't help but notice how slow he was in doing it. He didn't appear _that_ hurt and had bounced back so much quicker from worse.

Of course, it seemed awfully convenient that Jack was only up and standing by the time Raimundo appeared in front of him.

Jack pulled back his arm for a punch and lunged at the Xiaolin monk in his first attempt at an attack since the fight began. It was almost laughable how quickly he was stopped by the fist that clipped him in the jaw, sending him back to the floor a second time.

Shaking his head and now spitting blood from a bitten tongue, Jack was already looking the part of 'defeated,' but this time, Chase found he could not fault it. Even if Jack _were_ a better fighter, he was still going up against someone with _his_ superhuman strength. The best of warriors could have only dragged it out a little longer.

Raimundo reached down and caught Jack by the throat, hauling him up off the ground. The goth sputtered and clutched at the hand around his windpipe.

"You're really pathetic, Spicer," he sneered. "I don't know what you were thinking with this. You're not even a real contender! How the hell did you expect to get the Sphere of Yun away from me?"

Jack said nothing for a moment, struggling to speak. "I'm…not done _yet,_" he managed.

"You look pretty done to me."

Jack continued to dangle above the floor in the wind dragon's grip. "You forgot something…_real_ important about me," he wheezed.

"Oh, really?" Raimundo grinned. "And what's that?"

Jack grinned back at him with a bloody mouth. "I _never _play fair."

Chase couldn't help his wince when Spicer's booted foot (with steel toes!) swung, colliding _hard_ with Pedrosa's crotch.

Rai recoiled, dropping Jack in favor of clutching his groin. He was much too distracted by the explosion of pain there to notice the unbalancing sweep of Jack's leg until his own legs were out from under him.

It was here that Chase noticed Jack's usual quickness had at last returned.

The jungle cats began to growl, reacting to Pedrosa's pain and anger. Their fur bristled as they prepared to do battle for their 'master,' but oddly enough, Jack seemed to be quite aware of them and very prepared.

"Jackbots!" was all he had to say before a squadron of his robots appeared carrying cages. The felines were all trapped and harmless within seconds.

Raimundo found Jack towering over him and he made to stand.

"Spicer, I'll—" was as far as he got when the self-proclaimed genius procured a wrench from his sleeve and cracked it over the back of his head.

Chase could only stare, honestly surprised by the outcome as Jack bent to retrieve the Sphere of Yun.

"Aw, fuck," he muttered as he did so, rubbing a hand against his middle, "_that's_ already bruised…"

Something in his tone spoke of one who had made a necessary decision he wasn't happy with and the clues Chase had noticed throughout the 'fight' suddenly made sense.

"You took those hits on purpose," he realized. "You wanted him to let his guard down."

Jack nodded, not yet looking at Chase. "Might not have been 'honorable' to win like that," he admitted, "but dirty tricks are the best I've got. Besides, it worked."

Chase looked at Rai, unconscious on the floor, and then at Jack, standing tall despite the blood dripping from a corner of his lips. "So it did," he acknowledged, "and now, it is _you _who holds my power and possessions. Again."

Jack remained silent.

Chase spared another glance at Pedrosa. "I already knew of _his _plans for them. Do you intend to brag to me of yours, Spicer?"

Jack looked at the Sphere of Yun before wiping at his lips, his hand coming back red. "No," he said after a moment. "I think…I'd rather just show you."

Chase was not sure if he had been expecting a repeat performance of the last time this damnable Wu had been used against him, but it certainly looked to be shaping up that way when Jack snapped his fingers, prompting his machines to release his warriors from their temporary prisons. Jack clearly meant to take control of them again.

…which was probably why Chase was so soundly startled to find the Shen Gong Wu that had taken control of his cats away from him deactivated, dispelling his prison.

Even as power and possession and control flowed back to him, Jack was standing just in front of him, Sphere of Yun held out in offering.

Chase took it. "Quite a change of heart," he mused, eyeing Spicer. "If I recall correctly, you had no qualms about using this on me in the past."

Jack shrugged sheepishly. "That…wasn't my best moment. Pretty much any moment I betrayed you before wasn't my best moment. I've…been trying to work on that…the loyalty thing," he admitted. "I figure, now's as good a time as any to show it, right?"

Chase inspected Jack for a moment, reading his eyes and his body language with the ease of centuries of practice.

"My hero," he said, sensing sincerity from the goth. "And here, _I'm _the one in shining armor."

Jack blushed at the analogy. "Yeah, well…"

Chase opened his mouth to speak further, but was interrupted by the sound of Raimundo coming to with a loud groan.

Jack gasped as a large hand caught his shoulder, pulling him back behind Chase. Jack had the brief thought that it was a very protective gesture before the click of claws on the floor called his attention to the jaguar proudly resuming its place at its master's other side.

Rai regained consciousness, took one look at Chase, obviously free of the Sphere of Yun, and _blanched._

"As you can see, Pedrosa," drawled the dragonlord, smirking meanly, "Jack has handily proven to me where his loyalties lie."

Raimundo swallowed hard, wondering if he was about to die.

"Considering that you're not on very good standing with _anyone_ here," Diol interrupted to snarl at the monk with bared teeth, not at _all_ appreciative of being made a turncoat, while Jack merely glared from behind Chase, "I would consider it to be in your best interest to flee now, while you still _can_."

Pedrosa clearly took the threat seriously. Surrounded by wildcat warriors, a plethora of robots, and a pissed off, fully-powered warlord with the Sphere of Yun in one hand and the cause of his aching groin and splitting headache in the other, Rai made the connection that nothing about this bode well.

Without a word, he scrambled to his feet and _ran._

Some of the jungle cats made to go after him, but Chase stopped them with nothing more than a raised hand. "No," he said. "Let him go. Having to account for his vicious behavior to his fellow monks is punishment enough…for now. In the meantime, there are more important matters to attend to."

Jack was startled when Chase's eyes locked onto him. "Me?"

"Of course, you," the dragonlord scoffed. "Your mouth is bleeding, Spicer: you've been swallowing blood. If you keep that up, you're liable to get sick."

Jack raised a hand to his mouth, but Chase caught it by the wrist, tugging the youth closer to inspect the dark purple fist-shaped blotch forming upon his cheek and the hand-shaped blotch on his neck.

"If those have already bruised, so have the other hits you've taken." Chase pulled Jack forward again with the command of, "Come."

Jack stumbled after him as he was dragged along deeper into the recesses of the palace. "Wait," he said, "what for?"

"To tend your injuries," Chase replied as if it were obvious. "I refuse to simply _leave_ you like this."

"…you have before."

Chase stilled, turning to face Jack. "I don't care to leave my allies injured, Spicer," he declared. "You have never truly been that before. It will be up to you if this new trend continues, but for the moment, I _do_ consider you an ally. Unless of course, you should like to tell me otherwise."

"No, no, no," Jack hastily exclaimed, "ally is…good."

Chase nodded in agreement. "Good," he agreed, continuing to drag the young man along.

Jack followed him without further protest.

**Eleven -**

It was a bright and sunny Tuesday morning when Chase decided it was high time he went to harass Jack Spicer.

Several years had passed since his first meeting with the wannabe evil thirteen year old and many things had changed. For one, Spicer was now a _nine_teen-year-old young man and his appearance quite reflected those added years. Jack had grown up attractive (which the warlord was very satisfied with) and had matured in mind as well as body (which only satisfied Chase more).

Thinking his once irritating fanboy very aesthetically pleasing and _far_ from unpleasant to be around now that he was no longer quite as hyper and all over the place, Chase was unsurprised to find himself turning a considering eye towards Spicer and wondering in what way to develop that particular relationship.

Of course, before _any _kind of relationship could be formed, Chase understood that a certain level of damage control, for lack of a better word, was required. Yes, Jack had grown up well enough, but the years before he had done so were host to many bad experiences: betrayals, cruelties, dismissals, and mean jokes (some of which Chase himself had contributed to) had left the mechanic paranoid and wary of any who came to him about anything.

In fact, he had recently installed a subtle scanning device in his home set to discreetly analyze any visitors and alert him if a guest was carrying weapons or Shen Gong Wu of any kind. An actual alarm, complete with klaxon blaring and flashing red lights, would go off if one appeared in Jack's lab disguised as another person via the Moby Morpher. Chase guessed that particular measure was because of the monks' tendency to prank him with that Wu when bored, which happened frequently.

Either way, Jack's extreme measure of caution in dealing with 'allies,' while very smart, was most definitely an obstacle for Chase and made simply _asking _anything of Spicer an impossibility as he would be immediately distrusted and denied.

Of course, Chase was nothing if not persistent and resourceful and by the aforementioned Tuesday morning, he had a plan.

He would go to Spicer on a commission, something he didn't necessarily need, but could feign that he did (Jack could not yet accept that Chase would ever come to him unless absolutely necessary) long enough to open up relatively friendly relations. Once that was done, it would be child's play to slowly build Spicer's trust in him, gradually asking bigger and bigger things of him until Jack would be glad to sign his very _life _away on the dotted line for his evil hero.

But of course, that was getting ahead of himself.

"Hello, Jack."

Before Jack even turned to face him, Chase could sense invisible lasers on him, giving him a once over and reporting back what he already knew: he carried no Wu and no weapons and was, in fact, who he appeared to be.

"Chase," the youth greeted with a cordial nod, understanding this. "What are you here for?"

"Right to the point, I see," said Chase, but there was no displeasure in his tone. "I've come to ask something of you. I want you to build me a jet."

As expected, it threw Jack off. "A jet?" he echoed. "What for?"

"Lately, I have been feeling the pressing need for more methods of transportation," Chase explained. "Teleportation is all well and good, but over long distances, it takes quite a bit of my own energy—energy that could be put to much better use. A private jet, as I see it, would solve much of that problem."

Jack looked at him, appraising his words. "So, what exactly are we talking?"

"Something fast, obviously," Chase said. "Preferably stealthy and easy to maneuver. I have _some_ experience piloting aircraft, but as it would be your custom design and I'm not an expert to begin with, I imagine I could do with lessons as well, once it's finished."

"…I don't know," Jack said firmly after a moment. "I'll have to think about it before I give you a solid answer."

An unexpected reply, thought Chase, but not an unwelcome one. It was hardly any fun if things were _too_ easy, and the warlord didn't mind having to work a little harder for his quarry.

Besides, he _knew_ Jack from years of observation and interaction and he _was _easy. A warm enough tone, perhaps a touch here and there and Spicer would be putty in his hands.

Chase took a step closer. "Are you so uncertain of my sincerity?" he asked. "I assure you, I am being genuine."

Jack clearly did not know what to make of the earnest statement. "I…don't usually make deals that quick," he said slowly. "I don't like promising things if I'm not sure I can deliver."

Chase smiled at him and felt Jack's jump when a hand touched his shoulder. "Spicer," he said, "you and I both know it isn't a matter of whether or not you can deliver. You are _more_ than capable."

Jack looked like he could have blushed and stiffly shrugged off the dragonlord's hand. He was clearly unused to being praised.

Chase could _definitely _use that.

"Don't make me settle for second best, Jack," he said, and Jack frowned at him.

"What?"

"I considered others for the job," he informed the goth. "There are those besides yourself that are capable of fulfilling my request."

"So…why not go to one of them?"

Chase shook his head. "I am Chase Young," he declared. "I do _not_ settle for anything less than the best." He offered Jack a meaningful look. "When it comes to machines, Spicer, the best is _you._"

And _there _it was: the waver in Jack's defenses where his brows knit and he glanced away, trying to get together a coherent sentence.

"I would rather not go to another for this matter," Chase told him simply, and that easily, the wall was broken.

"I…I don't know," Jack said again, far less certain this time. "I mean…I can _do _it. It just might take…awhile."

Chase tilted his head. "Is there something particularly difficult about my request?"

"No…not exactly. It's just that…" Jack looked decidedly embarrassed. "Well, it's not like I have a day job. Building robots all the time gets expensive and…I'm kinda tight on funds right now. For something like a jet, I'd need maybe…a month to get together the cash for it and then add the planning and building time. If you're willing to wait—"

Jack broke off with a sharp intake of breath upon finding Chase right next to him, arm around him and hand once more on his shoulder.

"Jack," the dragonlord practically purred, "you think I would be so churlish as to make you finance a project _I _requested?" His hand came down to rest upon Spicer's hip with his thumb tracing the curve of his spine all the way down. Jack's involuntary shiver was very much delighted in. "I am commissioning you. Of course, any expenses of the project will be covered."

Again, Jack stepped away quickly and it took much of Chase's willpower to keep from laughing.

"I should be able do it, then, I think," Jack admitted, his expression of discomfort fading away as he began to think of technical details. "I'll still need a little time to draw up some schematics and get you a list of the materials I'll need. Maybe…a week?" he guessed. "Monday, if I don't run into any snags."

Chase grinned at him. "Excellent! Spicer, I'm so pleased, I could kiss you."

Jack froze at that, wide-eyed. Chase saw the reaction and his grin became a smirk.

When he'd said it, he had no intention of following through. It was only an expression, after all, but Spicer's reaction was so _amusing_…!

And perhaps as a very evil and sexy warlord, he enjoyed it quite a bit when technologically adept geniuses fell all over themselves in response to his natural charm.

Unable to resist the temptation, Chase leaned in, touching his lips to Jack's lightly.

The reaction was immediate.

Jack's entire body tensed with shock, and his heart rate spiked abruptly. For what must have seemed like an eternity to him, he couldn't even manage to inhale a breath, seemingly frozen in place. In reality, it was only a few seconds of leaning forward to kiss back and of feeling peculiarly light-headed before he outright fainted.

Chase caught him as he sagged bonelessly against the dragonlord, well and truly unconscious. He likely wouldn't remain that way very long, but while he did, Chase allowed himself a wickedly delighted chuckle.

_Easy,_indeed…

**Twelve -**

"I'm pretty sure this is illegal, you know. Kidnapping is generally against the law in…everywhere."

Kimiko rolled her eyes. "It's not a kidnapping," she said. "That would imply we _wanted_ you around. You're a prisoner of war."

"Well, even that brings up the Geneva Convention."

"We're not torturing you!"

"The Geneva Convention also guarantees a generally humane treatment of prisoners—y'know, _humane_? Part of that means treating me like a _human,_" emphasized Jack. "I'm pretty sure this is a dog cage."

Kim smiled at him. "Buttons outgrew it years ago."

Jack, with his knees up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them (to conserve what little space there was), snorted. "What is Buttons?" he demanded. "A Chihuahua?"

"A Samoyed. Her fur makes me think of you."

"Gee, how romantic."

A scoff. "I _meant_ the color, Jack." She placed a small bowl of fruit on the floor next to the cage. "This is so you don't starve to death. How's that for humane treatment?"

"Still pretty crappy," quipped Jack, looking over the fruit. "I'm pretty sure none of those are gonna fit through the bars."

"There's grapes," Kimiko pointed out, "and an orange. You can peel it outside and break it into pieces that'll fit, _genius_."

With that, the girl turned her back and stalked out of the room to rejoin her comrades.

"Love you, too," Jack called after her, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

The door to the secluded gardening shed was slammed shut and the goth winced as the flimsy wall shook and a pair of shears clattered to the floor. The silence of being completely alone quickly set in, and with it came a deep sigh.

"Well, this sucks."

And suck it did, for this was approximately Hour Six of Jack's Xiaolin captivity.

It couldn't have been more than a whim of the monks' to actually imprison him following his latest defeat. Even so, it didn't change the fact that the four of them had hauled him off the battlefield and locked him in this cage, telling him that it was because he was a danger to himself and others (and maybe he was, but that was _so_ not up to them to decide).

At first, Jack had figured to make quick work of the cage and be back home before lunch. After all, the lock was a simple twist and pull mechanism meant to contain animals, not he with his opposable thumbs. It should've been—and was at first— very easy to undo the lock and sneak out of the shed in search of Master Fung (who would undoubtedly be furious at what his students had stooped to).

As it turned out, the temptation to get the monks in trouble was a damning one, for in the handful of minutes Jack had taken to approach the main area of the temple, one of his captors had spotted him. It was nothing for them to subdue him again and toss him right back in the cage.

It was Kimiko who used her gift over fire to so kindly ensure that he would not be undoing the lock again—by melting it shut.

Jack really didn't want to think about the implications of that because the door was now sealed shut and there were no tools available to him to fix it. There were, of course, _gardening_ tools hung up on the walls that _could_ be helpful if he were able to tinker with them a bit, but his cage was in the center of the shed and his last attempt at inching it closer to the wall led to tipping over and consequently being laughed at by the next monk who came to check on him.

Jack wondered if they expected him to go to the bathroom in the cage from now on or if they had simply not thought things that far through.

After only a second of thought, he was willing to bet his favorite squadron of Jackbots that it was the latter.

Jack looked again at the bowl of fruit. Despite his hunger, none of it looked appealing. He wasn't starving yet, and he had no intention of remaining here long enough to become so.

He reached out, knocking the bowl aside with the soft clatter of ceramic on dirt. The grapes simply fell out, while an orange and apple rolled to opposite ends of the shed. Jack glared at them as if _they_ were the reason he was trapped in here before he realized what he was doing and stopped.

The monks could…_sometimes_ be reasonable, he thought to himself. They couldn't keep him from Fung forever and when he found out, Jack's captors would be punished severely and he would be free to plot his revenge (which would be _horrible_).

…But how long would it take the monks to slip up? Fung was a crafty old guy, sure, but way too trusting of his students on stuff like this. If the monks were on their best behavior and didn't act too suspicious, they might be able to keep their master in the dark for days…maybe _weeks_!

Jack allowed his forehead to fall upon his knees.

"Well," he said aloud in an attempt to cheer himself up, "at least it can't get any _worse._"

"Ahem."

Jack froze in a nauseating combination of shock and complete mortification. Hesitantly, he glanced upwards and his humiliation was amplified at the sight of none other than his most idolized evil hero standing in front of the cage.

"Oh," he said weakly. "Hi, Chase. Guess I was wrong: it just did get worse."

Chase raised an eyebrow, eyeing Jack through thin black bars. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Jack shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "You're Chase Young," he explained, slightly muffled. "You have never been in a situation this embarrassing before. You can't even imagine how degrading this is for me."

"Probably not," Chase agreed, "but I can guess."

Jack looked up again. "If you're gonna make fun of me, I'd really prefer it if you saved it for later. When I'm not in a dog cage, maybe."

"I'm not here to make fun of you."

That earned Chase complete silence and a blank stare. The warlord knelt beside the cage. "I came," he said, "to give you this."

Jack accepted the item that was slipped through the bars. Upon realizing what it was, his eyes went wide. "The Serpent's Tail?" His head jerked up to look back at Chase. "What for?"

"Must I instruct you how to escape a cage with an item that allows you to become intangible?" Chase asked coolly.

Jack shook his head. "No, I just…I mean…_why_?"

"You are weak," Chase replied frankly. "You would not have lasted long in captivity before your spirit was broken."

"What does that matter?" Jack wondered. "To you, I mean."

"A Jack Spicer with a broken spirit is not Jack Spicer at all. It is in your nature to be persistent and bounce back from anything and everything. If you were to remain a prisoner for longer than perhaps a day, you wouldn't be able to anymore."

Jack frowned. "I… That still doesn't tell me anything," he said. "Why should it matter to _you_ if I'm…not me anymore?"

Chase only looked at him for a long moment. With something heavy burning in his gaze, he spoke. "It matters."

The goth jumped when somewhere in between one blink and the next, Chase had disappeared. He opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, realizing that there was nothing to say and no one to say it to.

Red eyes fell upon the Serpent's Tail in his hand.

Kimiko had only left five or ten minutes ago: it would be another fifteen at the least before someone else came to check on him. That was just enough time to tattle (_safely_ now, with this Wu) and get the hell out.

Jack gripped the artifact firmly, deciding that he could think about that business with Chase later. For now…

"Serpent's Tail!"

**Thirteen -**

Jack glanced at the clock for what had to be the hundredth time that night. Around him, a dozen or so people were milling about and making small talk, family and friends of the family and a few people he didn't even recognize. Some of them would leave soon and more would show up to take their place.

Truly, Jack envied them for their ability to leave, but he was considered part of the immediate family and it would be rude to leave early. His mother might understand (it had been _five and a half hours,_ now), but his father would almost certainly kill him if he were to lose face among his business associates by not having his son there to explain why _he_ was halfway across the world right now.

Hypocrite.

Jack looked around the room, trying to remain inconspicuous. He really did not want to be talked to anymore, but it was hard to be unobtrusive with bright red hair and skin as white as dea—

No. Not going to go there today.

Not with an actual corpse in the room.

Phyllis Quincy Spicer, always known to Jack as 'Granny,' had died several days ago when her lavish penthouse in California had been subject to a break-in. It was very like her to have fought the intruder off, but it seemed that her age (eighty-eight years) had finally slowed her down. She wasn't quick enough in dodging the bullet fired at her and was struck directly in the heart.

Jack was assured she died instantly, but that thought wasn't so comforting to him as the one that she went out fighting. Granny had always been a tough old bitch and would have wanted it that way.

His breath hitched for a moment and Jack forced himself to stop thinking about that. He couldn't cry, not here and most certainly not now. Granny, were she still around to make her opinion known, wouldn't have given a damn either way, but there were other people here who would _not_ approve.

Men don't cry, no matter how sad. If Jack was to be seen _crying,_ even at his own grandmother's wake, it would be considered 'making a scene.' He would never live it down and he would _never_ hear the end of it from his father.

Even so, he couldn't help looking over, through the sparse crowd of people, at the casket where his grandmother lay. She was still such a beautiful woman, despite her age. Jack recalled her telling him that she never wore makeup because it would damage her skin. Eighty-eight years of not wearing makeup had apparently paid off, because her face was largely free of wrinkles.

Jack grinned at the thought of there being younger women here who looked older than she did. Granny would've _loved_ that one.

The grin did not last long, however, when Jack spotted someone approaching the casket.

At first, Jack wasn't sure if he was seeing right because there was no way in _hell. _Lots of guys had long, dark hair these days and maybe the resemblance was just coincidence.

He moved in a little closer, from the back of the room to the middle of the aisle between the funeral home's pews. The man he was watching knelt solemnly before the casket and Jack's suspicions grew. The motion of that lean, powerful physique was _so_ very well-known to him, even hidden beneath a suit.

Of course, all doubt in Jack's mind vanished when the man stood and turned around to approach him. There was, after all, no _way _that golden eyes with slit pupils were a mere similarity.

Jack met him halfway. "Chase," he practically hissed, "what are you doing here?"

"What else?" the warlord wondered with a brief glance behind him. "I came to pay my respects."

"You _knew _my grandma?" Jack asked with wide eyes.

"I knew her when she was Phyllis _Taylor,_" said Chase, "prior to her marriage to Lukas Spicer. We lost contact sometime after that, but it's very difficult to forget about a woman like your grandmother."

"…you weren't…_you _know?"

Chase grinned. "Don't worry, Spicer, there was never any chance of you having been _my_ grandson. Phyllis and I had a completely platonic relationship. I very much respected her dedication to evil and before she went into retirement, she would occasionally call upon my assistance or resources for her schemes."

And that sounded quite a bit like Granny, Jack mentally agreed.

"Yeah," he said out loud, "she was a great old bitch, alright."

To that, Chase simply nodded, and Jack was struck by the absurdity of standing here at his Granny's wake and talking to a Heylin warlord that also happened to be his evil hero.

"Is this for real?" he asked abruptly. "Are you really here? 'cause this seems really weird."

Chase shrugged. "I signed the registry," he said. "You can check it if you'd like."

Jack had to hold back a laugh at the thought of seeing that particular name and address (Chase Young, Land of Nowhere) written down. "No, no, I'm good. Although I gotta wonder why you're talking to me."

Chase stared at him.

"Not that I'm complaining," Jack amended quickly. "It's just that you could've…paid your respects and left. Considering our track record, I'm a little surprised that you actually came over to me."

"The point of a wake, as I understand it," said Chase, "is for those that knew the deceased to reminisce about her. It's not as if I know anyone else here and besides that, no one would believe I'm old enough to be _Phyllis's _great-to-the-something-power grandfather."

Jack gave a snert at that.

"In any case," Chase continued with a smirk, "you and I look about the same age, so it will likely be assumed that I'm one of your friends here to support you. It's an assumption I'd like to encourage for convenience sake."

Jack nodded. "That makes sense. I don't want to say 'nice,' but…it was cool of you to show up."

"I _am_ very cool," Chase easily agreed, "and as I said before, I greatly respect your grandmother's capacity for evil."

Jack went tight-lipped for a moment before replying. "She was really good at being bad." He wanted to wince at the way his voice cracked in the middle of his sentence. "It's just…kind of a shame the way she died."

"Really?" wondered Chase. "I thought it was just the way she'd have wanted to go: assassination."

Jack paused. "Assassination? No, she…there was a break-in…"

"Think about it, Spicer," Chase prompted. "Nothing was stolen. She was killed in her bedroom. The intruder would have had to bypass dozens of rooms filled with valuables to even get there and passed them by _again_ on the way out. Phyllis was his only target."

"_Seriously_?"

Chase's attitude was very nonchalant. "That's what happens when you're Illuminati: you make quite a lot of enemies." Upon noticing Jack's expression, he raised an eyebrow. "You didn't know?"

Jack shook his head. "No. I mean…I knew she had to be into _something._ I just didn't know…y'know, _what._"

Chase smiled, almost fondly. "Phyllis was always excellent at keeping the details of what she did a secret, even from her own family."

"No kidding," Jack agreed. Again, he found himself looking at the woman's casket.

Chase followed his gaze, noticing the large bouquet of flowers upon the coffin. It was in stark contrast to the other flowers in the room, made up of black roses and accented by the deep red of black prince snapdragons.

"Your contribution?" the dragonlord guessed.

Jack nodded in confirmation. "They were her favorite. Besides, she hated all this…bright crap," he gestured to the other arrangements, pink and white and yellow and other such happy shades. "The way the people here talk, you'd think she was some loving old matron. She'd have hated to be thought of that way."

Chase did not miss the firm way Jack had said it, as if he _knew _instead of just assuming. "You were close," he conjectured.

"Yeah," said Jack. He made a face. "Everybody says I'm a momma's boy. And y'know, what? Sure. But Granny was like…Mom v2 for me."

He gestured across the room where a blonde woman with clear resemblance to him (namely in the nose and chin, Chase decided) was speaking to another woman. "Mom was busy a lot when I was a kid," he explained. "Business meetings, parties, high society crap, I don't know. She'd leave me with Granny a lot, so she pretty much raised me."

"Are you alright?" Chase asked when Jack's voice cracked for the second time in minutes.

Jack had a hand over his mouth. His eyes were beginning to look a bit watery. "Yeah," he eventually assured the warlord, "yeah, I'm fine. It's just…I'm okay until I have to talk about it." He shook his head and took a deep breath. "Sometimes, I wish I weren't a guy."

"Questioning your sexuality again, Spicer? I'd thought you were past that."

Jack couldn't help his laugh at the obvious joke. "No," he said, lightly elbowing Chase. Something about the warlord's demeanor made him think he could get away with it tonight and he was not subject to any retribution. "Shut up, no. It's just that…guys aren't supposed to cry at these things. Or ever. If I were her grand_daughter,_ I could be bawling right now and nobody would care, but if I let loose even one tear, I'm a pussy."

"You're not a pussy for caring about your grandmother." Chase lightly shoved Jack's shoulder when he snickered at the crude terminology from his idol's mouth, but didn't take his hand back. "Modern society is indescribably stupid for placing gender restrictions on _mourning,_ of all things."

"Tell me about it," said Jack, his eyes once more drawn back to the casket. "You know," he continued eventually, "she was the reason I wanted to be evil."

"Oh, really? And here I'd thought that honor belonged to me."

Jack smiled. "Oh, she made damn sure you were the first evil badass I ever admired, alright, but I mean that it was her idea that I should aim away from the 'good and true' crap."

"I'm certain your mother was very happy with that," Chase quipped.

"Yeah, she was pretty excited," Jack concurred, not catching the sarcasm. "She jumped on the bandwagon from the get-go, but it was always Granny's dream that we be evil together. Rule the world as grandmother and grandson, and all that Darth Vader schtick. Of course, I'm gonna have to work a lot harder to be _real _evil for her now that she's gone."

Jack was surprised when the hand on his shoulder became an arm around him. He was even more surprised by what Chase had to say.

"Perhaps it would be a fitting homage to Phyllis that I help you reach that level."

Jack stared openly at the man beside him. Chase had been looking at the casket, but turned when he felt eyes on him.

"For the record," he said, "I've been thinking of taking you on as a student for quite awhile. You're at an age now where you're fit to learn what I have to teach you." He eyed Jack briefly, in a charcoal black suit that fit him very nicely. "It doesn't hurt that you've grown up very attractive, either. The timing simply seems right."

"…is this for real?" Jack asked again. "I mean…if you're pranking me…"

Chase scoffed. "_Pranking_ you, Jack? At the wake of your beloved grandmother where you are _obviously_ grieving? I'm _evil,_ Spicer, not _heartless._"

Jack smiled sheepishly. "I had to check," he said. "I've gotten burned before." Red eyes flickered between Chase and the unmoving form of Phyllis Spicer, to be laid to rest tomorrow afternoon. "At the risk of sounding cliché, I think she would've liked me being your apprentice."

"And you don't?"

Jack chuckled, leaning ever so slightly against Chase. "I love it." He frowned after a moment, looking at Chase. "So, what? Am I gonna move in with you? Are you gonna—"

Chase cut him off with a shake of his head. "Don't worry about it right now," he instructed. "The details can come later."

Jack sighed, the somewhat easy grin returning to his face. "Later," he echoed. "Yeah."

Chase continued to hold Jack against him for awhile, right up until he felt the goth stiffen slightly at his side. He turned and saw a middle-aged woman approaching with clear intention to speak to them.

"That's my great aunt on my mom's side," Jack explained. "She's not too bad, but there's no way I can get out of talking to her. I'm gonna have to introduce you." Abruptly, he laughed. "Shit, I don't even know what to refer to you as, now. I get the feeling people would get the wrong impression if I introduced you as my _master._"

Chase laughed, as well. "Not quite _wrong,_" he shot back, but before Jack could respond, the woman was upon them.

"Jackie!" she cooed, reaching in for a hug. Chase backed off only briefly enough to allow it before replacing his arm.

"Hey, Aunt Lillian," Jack greeted. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm alright, dear," Lillian assured. "How are _you_ holding up? I know you and Phyllis were so close…"

"I'm doing alright. I'll be fine by the funeral," he promised.

Lillian smiled. "Well, that's great, honey, I'm glad." It was then that she noticed Chase, still with his arm around Jack. "Hello, young man," she said warmly, hand reached out. "I'm Lillian, Jack's grandfather's sister."

Chase took the offered hand. "Chase Young," he said with an utterly charming grin. "I'm Jack's boyfriend."

**...**

**A/N: Still in honor of Silvarbelle! :D**

**_Nine -_Oh, Kimiko, you should know by now that Jack is far too complex a creature to successfully imitate. ...also, weird. XD**

**_Ten -_Seriously, Chase needs to kill this Wu, no matter how good of a plot device it is for me in this particular instance. Also the word used by Rai is a derogatory term for a gay man, a little bit like 'fag' is used in English.**

**_Eleven -_No comment (aside from, Jack is totally easy).**

**_Twelve -_I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks Jack wouldn't do well in captivity. He just doesn't have the spirit to survive that kind of thing. It's lucky he's got Chase to bust him out in this case. ;P**

**_Thirteen -_We salute thee, Granny Spicer!**

**There's Part 2 for you all, and there's more parts coming! :)**


	3. Fourteen to Twenty

**33 Ways (Jack Could've Hooked Up With Chase)**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, implications of sexual situations, etc.**

**...**

**Fourteen -**

Chase laughed out loud as yet another monk grew fed up by his blatant mockery and stormed off peacefully rather than retaliate. He was the fifteenth today, and it was only noon.

Xiaolin monks, he mused, really did _not _like it when all-powerful Heylin warlords hung around their precious Pagoda Forest on a holy day that only came once every hundred years. Chase had gathered from the menagerie of monks that they believed his presence here corruptive to the goodness of the Buddhist masters memorialized by the monuments. Of course, they wanted him very much gone before he disturbed the great ones' rest.

But if one were to be technical, Chase had already done that centennially since the time he had become immortal.

Perched easily at the top of one particular pagoda, he glanced further down and grinned. "It's getting too easy to irritate monks these days, brother," he said. "It's almost as if they don't teach patience anymore."

A ghostly form shook his head at him. "_Really,_ brother," said an exasperated Grand Master Dragon, "_must_ you be such a tool?"

Chase's grin only widened as he realized the spirit was attempting to give him the classic, 'disappointed older sibling glare.' "How long have you known me, Dashi? The answer is and shall always be yes."

Dashi continued to sit upon the eave he had chosen, legs and arms both crossed. "That _does_ explain quite a lot."

Chase easily shrugged off the insult. "Given the choice between adhering to the hypocritical code of the Xiaolin and dying as you did, I much prefer to be a Heylin tool."

"Have you forgotten it was _you _that killed me?" Dashi wondered.

"Details, details," said the warlord airily. "And for the record, I cannot truly be a tool: I have far too many admirers for that."

At that, Dashi smirked. "Oh, _yes,_" he said. "I've been meaning to talk to you about one of them in particular…"

Chase joined him on the eave. "The silly one with the overt fondness for putting his hands on me?" he guessed. "I had figured you _would_ like that one. I admit, he's beginning to grow on me, as well. Rather like a fungus, actually, although I'm sure he would insist that he's a _fun-gi._" Chase snorted and made a face. "_Damn _that boy, I swear his horrid sense of humor is rubbing off on me."

"You _wish_ he was rubbing off on you, I think you mean," Dashi teased. "And he's not so much a fungus as he is kudzu."

"Mmmm," Chase assented, "that's much more like it. He's been growing out of control, lately." He turned to his deceased sibling, sounding almost incredulous as he spoke. "Were you aware that he's nearly seven feet tall, these days? I almost hesitate to be seen with him: there's something emasculating about standing next to someone that tall." He paused. "Then again, I can't imagine it'll matter much once I get him horizontal."

"You never seemed to care about standing next to Guan," Dashi pointed out. "He's _taller_ and _wider._ Jack's a beanpole in comparison."

But of course, Chase had no desire to speak of Guan. "I _do _like that he's a bit scrawny," he admitted. "It balances out the height issue for me that he's so much weaker than I am. He's terribly unsuited for battle: he wilts like a flower and bruises like a peach."

"_About_ that," interrupted Dashi. "Just because he's so white doesn't mean you have to color on him like paper. Ease up on the poor boy! He's _delicate._"

Chase frowned at him. "Have you ever heard the saying, 'I don't know my own strength'? It's hard enough trying to gauge myself around _normal_ humans—why do you suppose I don't touch any unless I'm actively _trying_ to hurt them? But Spicer…" He shook his head. "I can't seem to keep my hands off him. I feel the oddest compulsions to touch him and at the strangest moments! I honestly don't intend to bruise him…most of the time, anyway."

The spirit was silent for a long, long moment. Slowly, though, a shit-eating grin eased its way onto his face.

Chase saw it and rolled his eyes.

"Well, well, _well,_" smirked Dashi, "it _finally_ happened. My baby bro has fallen in _loooooooooooooooooove_!"

"Augh!" Chase scowled. "Do _not _say that!"

Dashi stood and made his way to the top of the pagoda. "In _love!_" he exclaimed. "Oh, how I've waited for this day!"

Chase glared up at him. "Back to _hell_ with you, brother," he all but demanded. "You are _such_ an irritant."

The smirk remained on Dashi's face. "Hey," he said smugly, "I'm a Grand Master Dragon. I earned my ticket to Paradise. Of the two of us, it's _you_ that hasn't. Unless…" He snickered. "Is being with Jack just about the same thing to you?"

Chase actually gagged at such a saccharine notion. "Enough!" he snapped. "You're going to make me vomit _all_ over your pagoda, and then who'll be laughing?"

"Oh, still me," Dashi happily assured. "Shall I plan a wedding for you? Dojo and I are still in contact. I can have the message passed along to Fung and he can see about his students putting the thing on for you as an exercise in patience and humility!"

"If you want any of them to continue living," Chase said, "you shall not. I can just as easily send them all to reunite with you in the afterlife."

"Fine, be that way," Dashi snorted, but he appeared to let the matter drop. He came back down from the top of the pagoda and sat upside down on the underside of the eave Chase sat on. "Spoilsport."

Chase leaned forward, looking down at him. "Is this an M.C. Escher painting now?" he wondered. "Your logic does seem very like one."

"Now, see, if you'd taken your Xiaolin studies _seriously,_you'd get this."

The dragonlord nearly laughed at the lecturing tone. "If I'd taken my Xiaolin studies seriously," he retorted, "I'd have died a virgin like you did, _big brother._"

Dashi seemed unfazed. "It may have been that way in the physical world, but don't you recall that bit about _eternal reward _in the next?"

Chase took one look at his sibling's lecherous grin and declared, "Necrophile."

"What can I say?" shrugged the spirit. "I dig dead chicks."

"I _have_ heard they don't say no," Chase allowed, "but it's precisely the _digging _that makes them seem such a hassle."

"Yeah, but I gotta say: they're the real afterlife of the party!"

Chase nodded. "I imagine only the _real _party animals would stick around to tolerate the smell."

Dashi was clearly disgusted by the sentiment, but managed a grin anyway. "Oh, now see, that's just _wrong._"

"You're the zombie-fucker, Dashi," Chase grinned back, "not I."

"Must you always be so uncouth?" Dashi's tone was the epitome of haughtiness. "I was speaking, of course, of spirits and souls, not rotting grave things."

"Soul-fucker," Chase corrected himself. "My mistake."

"And somehow, that sounds even _worse,_" Dashi muttered. "May we change the subject, now?"

"We most certainly may, soul-fucker brother of mine."

Dashi glared. "Silence, _brother, _or I'll deprive Jack of a future bed partner."

Chase only beamed at him, the picture of false innocence.

Abruptly, the ghost snapped his incorporeal fingers. "_That_ reminds me!" he exclaimed. "I almost forgot to tell you. I've been keeping an all-seeing eye on Jack for you. Were you aware that he's being courted by some businessman's son? Every time Jack leaves the house, he 'coincidentally' pops up to talk and hang out. There's been lots of arm-touching and eye-fucking, to date. On his part, anyway, Jack doesn't seem to be returning."

It was almost startling how quickly Chase's expression had become dark and thunderous. "Spicer had better _not_ be returning, for _his_ sake. Tell me what you know about this suitor of his," he demanded of Dashi. "I may have to murder him horribly and I'd like to know more first."

"I don't know much about him," Dashi admitted. "It seems that he's the son of a rival technology business. With how well Jack's designs have been doing on the market, I'd wager somebody spilled the beans to the business owner that our young Spicer swings _that _way and he tasked his son to seduce him into a marriage alliance or just to steal secrets."

Chase growled.

"I don't think you need to be worried, though," the spirit said, causing Chase to look expectantly at him. "Jack's totally onto him and has been for a couple of weeks. He's made kind of a game out of stringing the kid along. I'm almost positive he's setting him up for something: possibly you."

Chase appeared to be visibly calmed by that, but still somewhat bemused. "Hm. If Jack _is_ setting him up for me, that means he knows more than I'd given him credit for. What do you think?" he asked his brother. "Has Spicer finally developed his common sense far enough that he's figured out I would be more than happy to do murder over him?"

Dashi gave him a ghostly pat on the head. "I think it's more than likely that you're not the _only_ one in love."

Chase sighed. "Yes, well. Love makes idiots of us all and I have never seen a young man more in love than Jack Spicer."

Dashi ruffled his hair, smiling as his hand was batted away in irritation. "That's my bro," he said fondly. "I'll pray for what's left of your soul when you go to do the deed."

He was subject to a raised eyebrow. "Was _that_ what they called it back then?"

Now, it was Dashi's turn to roll his eyes. "That's my cue to leave: when you start mixing murder and lovemaking metaphors together."

Chase smirked in response. "You wouldn't believe how much fun they are one after the other—provided you have a separate partner for each, of course. I'm not a corpse-fucker like you. Oh, I'm sorry: soul-fucker."

For that, Chase found himself shoved off the pagoda. "I love you, little brother," Dashi said. "Now _do _fuck off!"

Naturally, Chase was totally affronted and stood, brushing dirt and leaves off of his armor. Even so, he couldn't help his smile. "Same to you, brother! Go resume your illicit soul activities. I've got an admirer to seduce and an interloper to send to his maker."

Dashi offered him one more grin and a shake of his head before his ghostly form vanished into thin air.

Chase left the Pagoda Forest to go about his business—of course making sure to heckle a few more monks as he passed them on the way out because seriously, fuck monks.

**Fifteen -**

"You understand that I wouldn't ask this unless it was absolutely necessary."

"Of course," said Chase. "I wouldn't allow it unless I understood as well as you do. The truce stands for one hour and no more."

Guan nodded. "Fine by me."

The warlord looked pointedly at him. "I haven't given you much time. That's your cue to tell me what you know, _quickly._"

"I haven't been able to learn much," the Master Monk admitted, to which Chase snorted.

"Then, what good are you?" he demanded.

"I can tell you what I _do_ know," Guan continued. "Bean is most definitely plotting something."

Chase rolled his eyes. "I _know_ that much, Guan. Please don't insult my intelligence. _What_?"

"It involves…taking another apprentice. I think he means to change another and use him to overthrow you."

Chase hardly seemed concerned. "I am not to be overthrown easily," he said. "Especially not by someone brand new to the Heylin, no matter _how_ much power Bean plans to instill him with. He will fail."

"If that were all, I wouldn't have begged a truce," said Guan. "He has chosen someone that could be…dangerous to you."

"Who?" Chase asked. "Wuya? She knows none of my secrets and I know all of her weaknesses."

Guan shook his head. "It isn't Wuya. It is…much worse."

"How could it be w—…" Chase glared at the monk out of the corner of his eye and when he continued, his tone was urgent. "Guan. Who do you think Bean has targeted?"

Guan saw the dark look and made a cautionary step backwards. "I'm…not certain I should tell you…"

"You came all the way here to do so," the dragonlord said coldly. "You called a truce to make me listen. You _will_ tell me."

"Chase, I—"

"_Guan!_" Chase snarled.

"Spicer."

Guan watched warily as Chase visibly froze.

"Jack?" he asked.

Guan nodded. "I have sources that have seen the Ying-Ying bird lurking around the Spicer estate. _He_ has made an appearance only once, but—"

"For every time he was seen, there were at least a dozen other times he was not," Chase finished. He, of course, did not need to confer further with Guan on the fact that this could be extraordinarily bad for him.

Jack Spicer was not very strong physically or magically, but he was highly skilled in precisely the area Chase was not: technology. Currently, Jack was no threat with only the one talent in comparison to Chase's two, but backed and corrupted by Hannibal Bean, Spicer had the potential to become a triple threat.

"Spicer is weak," he said out loud. "He will fold if Bean attempts to persuade him. How many times has he actually met with him?"

Guan's expression was blank. "I'm afraid I don't know that," he admitted. "I have no eyes _in_side the boy's home, only out."

Chase growled at him. "You are useless," he snapped. "_Years_ of planning are about to go up in smoke and _you don't know_?"

Guan sighed. "I know you want him for your own," said the monk, "but hope is not lost _yet._"

"Oh, isn't it?" Chase scowled at him. "Hannibal will use my past treatment of Spicer to sway him. He is too much of a spiteful creature _not_ to want vengeance upon me for my rejections of him. He is in a _prime_ position to be snatched away, _right _from under my nose, and turned against me, and you say there is still hope?"

Of course, Guan did not want young Spicer on the side of Heylin at all. He would be a very valuable asset to the side of good with the proper training and in the hands of Chase Young, he would surely become a dangerous enemy…

…but in the hands of Hannibal Bean, Spicer might very well end the world.

"If you act quickly, you may still take him," Guan said firmly. "Whatever Bean is planning, he hasn't done it yet. Jack is still…up for grabs."

"Hmph," scoffed Chase, "and how well would he react to that? He yet believes I hate him."

"Anyone with eyes can see the boy adores you," Guan argued, "and you said yourself that he is weak under pressure. You currently have the advantage over Hannibal: Jack fears him and admires you. How quickly do you think he would give in if you, his idol tried to win him?"

Chase appeared to consider it. "I could take him," he agreed. "It would be easy." He shook his head and raised a hand to his face. "No. He isn't ready yet. If I took him now, he would see himself as my servant and nothing more. _This_ is why I wanted _time_ to propose his role to him more slowly. I have _enough_ servants, damn it!"

The role that Chase wanted Jack for went unsaid, but was clearly understood by both parties.

Guan laid a comforting hand on Chase's armored shoulder. "My old friend," he said quietly, "I'm sure you'll think of something."

Chase's nose wrinkled in an expression of distaste, and he made to shrug off the hand. He was interrupted before he could do so.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?"

"Spicer," Chase acknowledged with some measure of surprise, watching the young man touch down onto the mouth of the palace entrance. "How much have you heard?"

To the warlord's further surprise, Jack _scowled._ "I didn't hear anything," he said, sounding particularly angry, "but I think I _saw_ enough."

Chase glanced at Guan, who seemed to realize his hand was still on the Heylin man and removed it. It occurred to Chase that he did not allow many to touch him and to Spicer, who must've known that, the situation looked admittedly strange.

Guan, who appeared to realize this, as well, stepped forward. "Spicer, you are jumping to conclusions," he said. "I was simply—"

"I _saw_ what you were doing!" Jack snapped at him. "You were _touching_ him! What, were you thinking about sleeping with the enemy?"

Guan was clearly not prepared for such a viciously spat accusation. "What? No, I—"

"You're not good enough for him!" growled the youth. "He's _way_ better than any of you…you…Xiaolin _losers_! That's why he went Heylin forever ago: because he's _better than you._"

For a moment, Chase was unsure where this tirade was coming from. Then, he looked at Jack's eyes, burning red and irrationally furious. Chase did not need _another_ moment to identify what that emotion was.

Spicer had assumed completely the wrong thing about Guan's being here…and he was _jealous._

Relief flooded the dragonlord at that, for there could not have been a more perfect time for this. With Bean moving in quick enough to impede his previous plans, simply snatching Jack away from him would have ended in disaster. Either way, Hannibal would win: if he _didn't_ take Jack, the goth would be turned against him and if he _did,_ he would have another minion and nothing more. But _this…_

Jealousy was a _very_ quick route for taking Jack as his own and could only expedite his progress in the right direction.

"That's what _I _told him," Chase declared.

"_What_?" Guan hissed at him.

"I have no interest in you, Guan," he said plainly. "Jack is completely right in that I am superior to you. Your advances are quite unwanted."

"Advances?" The monk gaped openly at him. "I never—"

"Save it, you Master Monk jerkass," Jack sneered at him. "You heard what he said! Get the fuck out of here, already."

Guan sputtered helplessly for a moment, looking back and forth between the two Heylin men. "Y…you cannot make me leave! I called a truce!"

"With Chase, maybe," Jack said. "Not _me._"

"_You _cannot make me leave, either," the monk declared.

To Jack's credit, he did not prevaricate. "_I_ can't," he openly agreed, "but I can sure as hell build something that can." He looked at Chase. "I'll be back in half an hour. If this douchebag is still hanging around by then, I'll have his _death warrant_ signed."

Chase smiled at him. "My hero."

If Spicer blushed, Chase did not see it, for he was already flying off with his helipack into the distance as quickly as he could manage.

As soon as he was gone, Guan turned to Chase and glared. "What was all _that_ about?"

"You said I would think of something to win Spicer over properly," the everlord pointed out. "I just did and I ran with it."

"What were you trying to do?" Guan demanded. "Make him jealous?"

"He was already jealous," Chase smirked. "I merely stoked the fires a bit. This way, he will have the chance to 'rescue' me from your very icky self and I can 'reward' him with my gratitude. Bean won't be able to get his hooks into Jack anytime soon if I can have him like this _now._"

The monk huffed, folding his arms over his chest. "A little warning would've been appreciated."

"We have a _truce,_" Chase reminded him. "That doesn't mean I'm looking _out _for you, simply that I'm not trying to kill you."

"And that means it's alright for you to throw me under the bus?"

Chase shrugged. "It won't be breaking the truce if _Spicer _is the one that kills you."

At that particular reminder, Guan looked at the sky where Jack had disappeared. He seemed distinctly uneasy.

"He…wasn't serious about that death threat, was he?"

"Probably completely serious," Chase replied. "Jack has a tendency to lose his mind when it comes to me, and I'm not sure how much of one he had in the first place. Like you said, anyone can see he adores me: he is in love with me beyond all sanity and if he believes you were trying to force yourself on me, I'd say he could very well kill you."

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Guan said a very foul, very un-monk-ly word before fleeing from the mountain stronghold.

Chase remained behind to wait for his admirer's return.

True to his word, Jack was back in thirty minutes precisely, looking a little calmer than when he'd left, but still _very_ angry. In his hands, he held a rather large, futuristic-looking gun with several glowing parts and an ominous hum.

"Where's the bald fucktard?" he growled.

"He fled in complete and utter terror," Chase informed him. He eyed the weapon Jack had brought. "That is a _very _nice BFG, Spicer. Do you know how to properly use it?"

"Of _course_ I know how to use it," Jack said proudly. "If there's one thing I'm good at it, it's marksmanship. How do _you_ know that acronym?" He paused suddenly, as if only just now processing what Chase had said. "Wait…he _actually_ ran away? Because of _me_?"

Chase grinned at him. "I _do_ have access to the internet, Jack, and yes, he fled quite hastily following your threat. Guan knows far better than to tangle with a homicidally in-love young man like yourself. The same principle as 'a woman scorned' applies."

Jack frowned, most _definitely _blushing this time. "I'm not a woman," he muttered, "and I'm not in—"

"Of course you're not a woman," Chase agreed, placing a hand on the small of the goth's back. "I was merely making the comparison. I'm _more_ than happy to acknowledge you as a man…"

Jack was clearly thrown off balance and struggled for something to say. "Yeah, well, I…um…"

Chase made sure to give him a positively charming smile, pressing lightly with his hand to guide Jack forward. "I am very grateful to you for your actions today, _Jack,_" he purred. "Why don't you come inside? I would be glad to show you just how _grateful_ I am."

Jack shivered lightly, but allowed himself to be led towards the palace door, smiling back sheepishly. "Uh…yeah, sure, that'd be…cool, I guess."

"Excellent," said Chase, extremely pleased, "just excellent…"

He had the very satisfying feeling that somewhere, a thoroughly thwarted Hannibal Bean was cursing him up and down.

**Sixteen -**

Sylvia Spicer was in the kitchen when she heard the distant sound of the front door being opened and slammed shut. She spared a glance at the oven, which she had duly turned off and then at the tray of snickerdoodles just taken out. It would be at least ten minutes before they were cool enough to serve.

Slipping off her oven mitts and setting them aside, she made her way to the living room. "Jack, is that you, sweetie?" she called.

She found it very strange when she received no answer. Her son _never _ignored her, even when he was having a terrible day.

"Jack?" she tried again.

Still no answer and maternal instinct had her quickening her pace.

Sylvia made it to the living room just in time to see her son, unconscious, being laid out on the couch by a man she had never seen before.

"Jack!" she gasped loudly, dashing to the boy's side. Her hand touched his face, bruised and dirty, but he didn't so much as twitch in response.

"Mrs. Spicer, I presume," said the stranger suddenly and Sylvia turned to look at him.

He was fairly tall, she noticed, and impressively handsome with long, dark hair and eyes the oddest shade of brown she'd ever seen (they almost looked _gold _in the light). He looked to be roughly her son's age, but something about him spoke of a much higher level of maturity.

"Yes," she managed to say, "I'm Jack's mother." Her blue eyes fell again upon her son and her eyebrows drew together in concern. "What happened?"

"I am…a friend of Jack's," said the man. "I'm not entirely sure what happened, but when I found him, he was unconscious. I thought it would be best to bring him home."

Sylvia sighed, reaching over brush back her son's red hair. "Thank you," she said, sincere in her gratitude. "I'll just bet this happened during one of those…Showdown things. I keep telling him he's going to get hurt, but he never listens."

The stranger raised an eyebrow at her. "How much do you know of that?" he demanded.

Sylvia looked at him. "Jackie tells me everything."

At that, the stranger seemed somehow relieved and in the blink of an eye, Sylvia was looking at a man dressed in full armor and practically radiating darkness.

"I hate having to employ the use of glamours," he declared. "If your son truly tells you everything, that makes this much easier for me."

"You must be Chase Young," Sylvia quickly realized. "Jack has told me a lot about you."

"I'm sure he has."

Sylvia frowned as she looked again at Jack. "Mr. Young," she said firmly, taking a seat right beside the couch. Her son was still well within reach, of course. "What _really_ happened?"

The warlord arbitrarily chose a seat as well, crossing one leg over the other. "It is as you suspected," he answered. "Spicer was involved in a Showdown and as per usual, it did not end well for him. He…" Chase paused. "Has he spoken to you about Shen Gong Wu?"

Sylvia nodded.

Chase continued with his explanation. "He was tagged with the Imo Gazer. Its function is to put people into a deep sleep."

"So…he's only sleeping." Somehow, Sylvia wasn't convinced. Jack looked more beat up than he usually did following Showdowns, and besides which, he was covered in dirt and much of the leather in his clothing (namely his coat and boots) was scuffed.

"Not quite," said Chase, confirming her suspicions. "Unfortunately, he was standing at the top of a rather tall and steep hill when the Wu was used on him." He glanced at the albino on the couch. "There were also quite a few rocks littering the side he fell on."

"Well…is he going to be alright?"

"He should be," Chase assured. "Spicer was practically comatose the entire way down, so aside from the bruising, there shouldn't be much damage. It's the same idea as a drunk surviving a car crash because of the lack of tension in his body. I'm certain he didn't break any bones, in any case. He _did _hit his head at one point, but I don't believe he was concussed. Aside from some soreness and perhaps a headache, he'll be fine once the effects of the Imo Gazer wear off."

Sylvia was blatantly relieved. "That's wonderful," she all but sighed, smiling over at the warlord. "Thank you for bringing him home, Mr. Young."

Chase nodded. "I was loathe to simply leave him there. Normally, the Xiaolin monks will handle that after they've incapacitated him, but it seemed they didn't realize the damage they had done this time."

"Well, I appreciate the effort you went to," Sylvia insisted. "The way Jack talks, you'd think you hated him."

Chase looked at Jack for a moment, motionlessly laid out on the couch. "I don't hate him," he said eventually.

Sylvia did not miss Chase's tone, suddenly very out of sorts with what one might imagine a centuries old dragonlord would sound like. Something about the way he'd said it…

The woman wasn't sure what it was that was driving her to speak. It could've been Chase's tone, the way he had looked at her son just then, how he had brought Jack home when he most certainly didn't have to…

It might've even been plain old women's intuition.

"If you don't hate him," she said, "you should tell him so. Jack is…persistent, but even he'll give up if he thinks something is hopeless."

Chase stared at her with an unreadable expression for a long while. Of course, Jack had told Sylvia all about this man and how dangerous he could be. She was certain he could kill her all too easily had she said the wrong thing.

Somehow, though, she wasn't worried. She had chosen her words carefully.

Across from her, Chase stood. His eyes were again on Jack.

"You're right," he decided. "I will. Thank you for your advice, Mrs. Spicer."

Before Sylvia could even say, 'you're welcome,' the warlord was gone, leaving her alone with her deeply sleeping son.

As if that was Jack's cue, he shifted slightly, groaning out loud as the aches of his body protested vigorously to consciousness.

"Crap in a bucket," he muttered, raising a hand to his head and squinting against the room's light. "Where am I?"

"You're at home, honey," said Sylvia, and Jack sat up straighter.

"Mom?" Seeming far more alert, now, he looked around the living room. "I was at a Showdown," he said, obviously confused. "How'd I get here?"

"Don't worry about that right now, Jackie," she said, petting his hair briefly before standing. "Would you like some snickerdoodles? Fresh out of the oven!"

Jack frowned at her. "I…um…yes?"

Sylvia began humming to herself as she went to fetch them. Idly, she wondered if Chase liked snickerdoodles, as well.

She would have to find out sometime before he became her son-in-law.

**Seventeen -**

"Chase Young, I challenge you to a—"

"Wait one goddamn minute!"

Six heads simultaneously swiveled to face the newcomer, a very irate looking genius.

"Jack Spicer!" Omi exclaimed. "If you have come for the Showdown, you are too—"

"Shut up, cheeseball!" Jack snapped. "I didn't come here for your dumb Wu!"

"Then, what _did_ you come for?" Kimiko wondered. It was clear from her tone she was about to lead into an insult, but Jack did not let her get that far.

"I sure as hell didn't come for the chicks," he declared snidely. "The only one here is flat as a board, and not much to look at, besides."

Kimiko's jaw dropped and the rest of the monks mimicked her expression.

No one had _ever_ spoken so crudely to them before, much less meek and dorky Jack Spicer!

Chase, it seemed, was the only one who could think of something to say.

"Spicer, what _are _you doing?"

"Something I should've done a long damn time ago," said Jack, scowling. "I am…_so_ done with this whole thing. As of today, I _quit._"

"Quit?" Raimundo echoed. "Quit what? Showdowns?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "_Duh,_ Captain Obvious. I'm done. This whole thing is bullcrap anyway, but before I leave, have I got a _lot_ to say to you—all of you!"

The dragon of wind, it seemed, was to be Jack's first victim. The goth stalked right up to him and _glared._"You," he snarled, "are a Class A d-bag."

"…what?"

"You heard me," said Jack. "You're a prick. You're irritating, immature—"

"Like you're one to talk!" Rai sputtered in response.

"That's not the point! You're a jerk who sleeps with a teddy bear and you need to get over yourself."

Before Raimundo could argue any further, Jack moved on to the token female monk.

"You, Kimiko," he declared, "are fickle as _fuck._ A different hairstyle every goddamn day? Really?"

Kimiko, currently sporting a feathered pink and green bob, scoffed. "It's called _expressing myself,_" she said haughtily. "I'd think you, of all people, would get that, _Jack._"

Jack almost looked incredulous. "You think I _choose _to look like this? White skin and red eyes ringing any bells? I'm an albino, dumbshit!"

"W…well, then, why's your hair red?" the girl demanded.

"My mom took a lot of weird fertility drugs to get knocked up with me," Jack muttered. "It's natural, but I'd really not rather get into that. I was _born_ looking like this. _You_ make yourself look like a freak on purpose 'cause you want attention. At least _I_ keep my style consistent."

Clay, it seemed, was next on Jack's hit-list.

"You annoy me," he said simply. "You're way too much of a southern stereotype for me to even say anything else without bordering on offensive, but I can say this: never take up the banjo, people will paddle away from you as fast as possible."

Jack glanced upwards, noticing Dojo hiding beneath the brim of Clay's hat.

"Don't think I forgot about you," he warned. "I have _so_ much to say about—…actually, no, I don't." Jack's anger seemed to have paused almost completely and he shrugged. "Honestly, I really have no opinion about you whatsoever. I don't think we ever really hung out too much. You could be a cool guy for all I know, but I don't, so…well, I hate the people you hang out with. I'm gonna say we probably wouldn't get along."

Dojo nodded. "Maybe in another life, kid, but I don't think we're gonna be BFF in this one."

"Fair enough." Jack's gaze locked onto Omi and his frown was back. "But you! _You_ are an egomaniac!"

"Hypocrite," Rai muttered.

"Shut up, d-bag! You had your turn!" Jack turned his attention back to the small yellow monk. "If I were to _really_ get going about what I don't like about you, we might be here all day, but long story short, _why_ the hell can't you learn slang? It's so damn easy, but _you _just…just…ugh!"

Although really, Jack would have to hand it to Omi: those wounded puppy dog eyes of his were spot on.

"But there's one person here that I have a _lot_ to say to," Jack glared, "_Chase._"

Chase looked rather unfazed. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really!" Jack squared his shoulders and marched right up to the everlord, holding himself up to his full height. They were the same. "You are the biggest _dick_ here. For _years,_ you've treated me like crap when all I ever did was idolize you!"

"I found you irritating," Chase said, unapologetic. "Should I have welcomed you into my home with open arms?"

"No," growled Jack, "but _something_ would've been nice! A 'hey, good job, Jack,' or 'thanks for all your boundless admiration, Jack' every once in awhile—something _besides_ calling me an insect, maybe!"

"I had been thinking to reward you eventually," the dragonlord said honestly, "when you were ready to handle true evil. When you were older and more mature." He looked Jack up and down. "It seems you've become that quite without my notice."

Jack snorted. "Uh-uh," he said with a shake of his head, "no way. Too little, too late, Chase, I'm _done_ with this shit and I'm done with _you._"

"Are you really?" Chase wondered. "Years of lusting after me and all of a sudden, you're 'done'? Not possible, Spicer."

"There was no lusting!" corrected Jack. "I idolized you, and now I'm over it."

Chase raised a dubious eyebrow.

"…okay, for awhile there," the goth eventually admitted, "there might've been…_some _lusting…but I'm done! No more! I'm leaving this bullshit once and for all!"

"If that's true, then shouldn't you make the most of this last encounter?"

Jack eyed Chase warily. "What are you talking about? That's what I'm doing."

Chase shrugged in apparent disinterest. "All I'm saying is that if you're so certain you're never going to see any of us again, you might as well make the best of it. Telling off your enemies is always fun," he agreed, "but isn't there anything you wanted to _do_?"

Jack looked Chase in the eye for a long moment.

So. He did know.

"Not gonna happen," Jack snorted. "Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I don't want to be _alive _after this. I think I've said what I came here to say, thank you."

Chase seemed unbothered and turned away. "If you're certain."

"I am."

Jack (and the monks) watched Chase take a few steps away from the Showdown that had not yet taken place. The seconds it took him to do so felt like hours.

"Oh, fuck it."

Jack caught Chase by the shoulder and spun him back around, placing an arm around his waist as leverage to dip him just enough to lay the kind of kiss you only see in movies on him.

The monks' jaws dropped a second time that day when Chase, uncaring of the demeaning position, kissed back and threaded gloved fingers through fire-red hair.

By the time they broke apart, both Chase and Jack were fully upright once more. Chase looked the elegant warlord he had always been. Jack, on the other hand, looked flushed and flustered as he looked at the Heylin man he had just made out with.

"Maybe…" he began slowly. "Maybe I should reconsider the 'leaving forever' thing…"

Chase nodded in approval. "I think you should." He turned his gaze to the monks. "You may keep that particular Wu," he said. "I believe Spicer could use a bit more convincing."

They were, quite suddenly, gone from the battlefield to do the-monks-would-rather-not-think-about-what.

**Eighteen -**

"He's right in here," the nurse said, practically oozing politeness. "The doctor's okayed him for visitors, but he might still be a little groggy from the anesthetic."

Chase smiled in an imitation of civility. "Thank you, miss," he said to her. "I'm sure that'll be just fine. I can take it from here."

"Oh, of course! I'll just leave you alone, then. There's a call button in the room if you need anything."

Another charming grin and the nurse was off down the hallway to attend to her other duties while Chase entered the recovering patient's room.

The second the door was shut behind him, any pretense of friendly normality slipped from the everlord's demeanor. Though he was still clothed in the style of a modern mortal, he _was _a lord and now carried himself as such, sitting elegantly in the chair beside the hospital bed.

Jack Spicer continued to lay there, apparently undisturbed by his idol's entrance. Indeed, he appeared to be asleep. Understandable after the surgery he had so recently underwent, but Chase would be damned if he had come all the way here to stare at a sleeping young man.

Chase reached out a hand and flicked Jack sharply on the nose.

The reaction was immediate.

Spicer jerked up, covering his nose. "_Ow!_" he exclaimed. "What the fuck is your pr—" His eyes focused on his visitor and he quickly cut himself off upon realizing just who he was speaking to. "Chase! I, uh…sorry…but for the record, your bedside manner sucks…"

Chase half-smiled. "Duly noted, Spicer. How are you feeling?"

"…what?"

"Must I repeat the question?"

Jack frowned. "No, I'm…fine…?"

"You seem very lucid," Chase noted. "The nurse mentioned you might be out of sorts from the anesthetic."

"I…have a fast metabolism," Jack explained. "It was mostly out of my system awhile ago, but I still get a little dizzy if I sit up for too long. That's why I was _trying _to sleep," he muttered with a sidelong glance at Chase.

"Forgive me," said the dragonlord. It was clear he wasn't very sorry. "I needed to see that you were well and I couldn't do so if you were sleeping."

"Yeah…about that." Jack shifted in the hospital bed, looking confused. "Not that I'm complaining, but…why did you?"

"Why did I come to check on you?"

Jack nodded. "I mean, it's totally cool that you're here," he added quickly, smiling sheepishly. "I just…y'know, sort of had the impression that you didn't like me very much…"

Chase did not address that particular assumption. "A kidney transplant is a serious medical procedure, Spicer," he said instead. "I thought it warranted a visit, at least. Unless you'd rather I leave." Chase made to stand.

"No!" Jack winced and forced a semblance of casualness into his tone. "Uh, you can stay…you know, i-if you want to."

Chase grinned and resumed his seat.

Jack watched him for a moment, still noticeably baffled by his presence. He searched for something to say. "You…mentioned a nurse," he tried. "Did she tell you anything about me?"

"Your condition?" Chase wondered. "She spoke of it a bit. Were you not told anything?"

"Well, the doctor…may have said some stuff, but _that_ was when I was still pretty high," Jack admitted. "I either tuned a lot of it out or just completely forgot it."

"The surgery was a success," Chase told him. "You still have a recovery period ahead of you, but according to the nurse, there's no particular worry."

Jack's eyebrows drew together. "They don't think I'll reject the transplant?"

Chase shook his head. "It's a possibility, of course," he allowed, "but unlikely in this case. Your blood type is AB+ and your donor was O-, among a variety of other factors. The odds of a rejection are apparently quite low."

This appeared to relieve Jack. "I was lucky to find a donor so quick," he said out loud. "I thought I was gonna be on the waiting list for _years,_at least."

"You're welcome," said Chase.

"…_what_?"

"Where do you think your new kidney came from, Spicer?"

Jack stared with wide eyes. No _way._ "_You_…?"

Chase smirked. "Not exactly, but I _did_ go to quite a bit of trouble finding a healthy young man with that particular blood type. Convincing him to donate his kidney to you was the easy part: I can be _very_ convincing when I need to be."

Jack was nearly speechless. "…Are you _serious_?"

"As a heart attack."

Even as he shook his head in disbelief, Jack's sarcasm defense kicked in. "Okay," he said, "world of logic and reason is coming down in _shambles _here. Explain, please?"

"What's to explain?" Chase wondered.

"Oh, I dunno, how 'bout the fact that you would sooner put me _in_ a hospital bed than help me out of one?" Jack demanded. "You don't do anything unless it directly benefits you and all of a sudden, you're finding me a new kidney? What _gives_?"

"Jack, Jack, Jack," the warlord drawled, rising from his chair. "You're clinging very tightly to a past that no longer is. People are capable of change: I have not truly _hated_ you in years, and quite the opposite as of late. I have no desire to see you injured or sick."

This, too, was very unbelievable to Jack, but he managed to keep his wits about him for the moment. "There's a big difference between not wanting to hurt someone and actually helping them," he said. "Even _if_ what you said is true, that doesn't explain…this!"

"Doesn't it?" Chase asked with a wicked grin. "You were right about one thing, Spicer: I don't do anything that doesn't benefit me in some way."

Jack opened his mouth to challenge the dragonlord about his current angle, but found the wind _quite _knocked out of his sails when Chase leaned over him very closely.

Chase smirked at the tiny 'meep' the goth let out at the proximity. "Allow me to give you something to think about while you recover," he said in a positively sultry tone. "I don't fancy the idea of a _consort_ on dialysis."

Jack had only seconds to process those words before he was kissed firmly, albeit chastely on the lips. By the time his brain came back online from the short-circuit that particular event caused, Chase was gone and Jack was alone in the hospital room once more, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Perhaps, Jack thought, the anesthesia wasn't as out of his system as he'd thought. He was starting to feel _very _dizzy all over again.

**Nineteen -**

Jack stared at the laptop in his hands. "You're really leaving this with me?"

"Of course I am," said Chase. "You are the optimal choice."

"I _am_?"

"Think about it, Spicer: you're a genius with technology and all related things."

Jack smiled proudly. "Well, yeah…"

"And we are fairly well acquainted with one another."

"I guess that's true," Jack agreed.

"And most importantly," smirked Chase, "I know where you live should any harm befall my computer."

A nervous laugh accompanied the goth's following attempt at humor. "Yeah, why pay a stranger to do it when you could threaten me to do it for free?"

"Rest assured, Spicer, your work will not go unrewarded," Chase promised him.

"…really? You're gonna…pay me or something?"

"Don't concern yourself with the details of that just yet." The warlord fixed him with a cool, authoritative gaze. "You will give my computer a tune up. If I'm sufficiently pleased with your work, I can guarantee that you will be rewarded."

"Er…okay." Jack scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the clock. "You can come back in a couple of hours to get it. Um…was there a specific problem you were having with it?"

Chase shook his head. "It hasn't shown any signs of malware," he said. "It's a few years old and it doesn't run quite as fast as it used to."

"Okay…yeah, that happens with a lot of computers," said Jack. "Most people would take at least twelve hours for something like this, but they don't have the tech I do. It should take me half of that."

"Excellent," Chase grinned. "I shall return in six hours to check on your progress."

The everlord was then gone in his usual way, leaving Jack to his newly assigned task.

Jack got started immediately, running a few diagnostic scans to first verify that what Chase had said about the lack of viruses was true. Once that was done, he got started with the actual check up and cleaning in general.

Really, it was no different than what he had done for his own computers in the past. In fact, Chase's computer was maybe only a year or two older than the model he was currently using. The only _real_ difference was that he wasn't about to go looking through files to see what was necessary and what was taking up space.

Because, y'know, those were _Chase's _files.

Chase, his evil idol since, like, _forever._

Who probably wouldn't like it if Jack were to go rifling through them.

Because of…personal information, maybe. Or secrets of some importance. Or a _diary_…

Jack sighed to himself and double clicked on the Documents folder.

_Fuck it,_ he thought. _Chase knows what I'm like. Snooping had to be a calculated risk._

Chase, it seemed at first glance, did not keep too much on his computer. There were no text files (and nothing that even _remotely_ resembled a diary, to Jack's dismay), only a handful of folders each labeled with the names of various people involved in Chase's life.

There was one for Hannibal Bean and Wuya, one for each of the Xiaolin monks, Guan, Fung, and Dojo. Hell, even Katnappé had a folder!

A quick browse through it revealed a few images of the villainess. Chase likely used them to analyze strengths and weaknesses, as most of them were action poses, as if taken to catalogue her fighting style. A few were even annotated and Jack clicked on one he recognized from that apprentice fiasco he would much rather forget.

'A strong fighter,' the note read, 'but ultimately unsuitable as an apprentice. The cat puns alone would drive me insane.'

Jack snickered at the blonde girl's expense, but stilled as a thought occurred to him.

What had Chase written about _him_ as an apprentice?

Driven by a need to know, Jack went back to the collection of folders, searching for his name.

Finding it, he instinctively looked over his shoulder to make sure he was alone before opening it. However, any thought of looking for one specific image went out of his head the second the page loaded.

His folder…was _huge._

There had to be hundreds of images (_all_ of them with notes!), and there were hundreds more blank as the laptop struggled to process so many thumbnails at one time.

Momentarily stunned, Jack could only stare for several minutes. He went back to the other folders, looking through them to find that no folder contained even _half_ as many pictures as his did. Even Guan and Omi, two people Chase had seemed to put a lot of focus on in the past, had no more than fifty or sixty images.

Jack went back to his file, inspecting the pictures of himself. There didn't seem to be anything special about them. It was just…him.

Him scowling, smiling, smirking, laughing triumphantly (he was disappointed to see there weren't many of those), sulking in defeat (he winced to see there were quite a lot of _those_), working in his lab, even relaxing on his couch!

Jack shook his head. This didn't make _sense._ Why would Chase have all of this? It would make sense if he were a legitimate threat or…or a close ally…or _something._

But he was closer to _nothing _to Chase than that.

And then, he saw it: the very last file in the folder and it was a _text _file.

Without a hint of hesitation, Jack opened it.

'I have never before met one such as Jack Spicer. In all my years of living, I have encountered people with similar _qualities._I have met arrogant people, stubborn people, those who seem to completely lack common sense.'

Jack felt a strong urge to blush.

'I have also met geniuses whose intelligence surpasses that of any in their field. I have met the strong-willed, the persistent, the types of people who know the word, "surrender," but cannot comprehend the thought of giving up permanently. Spicer is all of these things and more, and yet _he_ as an individual is nearly beyond my understanding.'

Jack still wanted to blush, but for an entirely different reason. The text was abruptly broken up by yet another image and he remembered why he had looked in this folder in the first place when he recognized it from the apprentice debacle.

'He is perfect,' the text read after the picture. 'His devotion to me is already immeasurable and I haven't even given him any real indication of my interest. He has no skill in fighting to speak of, but of course, his intellect has found a way around the delicacy of his body in the form of his robots. I could easily give him suggestions for improving them to better employ them as an army and teach him a few basics that would save him should he ever find _himself_ in a conflict.'

At that, Jack _stared _incomprehensively at the monitor. Chase…thought he would be a good apprentice? Then, why…?

'Unfortunately, he is not yet ready for what I have to teach him and _I_ am not yet ready to have him so close at hand. Spicer is still distressingly young, and yet he is so lovely to look at. Truly, I have not seen such vibrant colors (or the lack thereof, as in his skin) on anyone before. It would be better…and _easier_ if he were to remain away until he is old enough to have me.'

Jack's jaw nearly dropped. That sounded a _lot_ like Chase found him attractive…and wanted to…_do _things with him when he was—

Jack quite suddenly realized that he _was_ older now. He was much older than he'd been when Chase had considered him for the position of apprentice. He was _nineteen_ now.

Desperately curious, he scrolled down further through the file.

'I am taking this computer to Jack today,' was the very next thing written. 'If I know him even half as well as I think I do, it shouldn't take him long to look through my files and his ego should ensure that he open the folder with his name on it. In fact, _Spicer,_I know full well that it's you reading this right now.'

Jack squeaked despite himself.

'That said, I have something to ask you… _**ARE YOU GETTING THE PICTURE YET, JACK?**_'

The albino genius couldn't help but freeze like a deer in the headlights when a large pair of hands settled on his shoulders.

"Well, Jack?" Chase's voice had a certain quality to it that made Jack _shiver._ "_Are_ you getting the picture or must I spell it out for you more clearly? Because to be honest, I'm not sure it's _possible _to be more frank than this."

Jack blinked once and shook his head. "I…yeah, I think I get it…" He leaned back in his chair, carefully resting his head against the warlord's firm abdomen. His voice gained confidence when he was not punished for the contact.

"Objectively, anyway. _Sub_jectively, it still seems kinda crazy that you…want me." Still no negation from Chase, and Jack decided to go for broke and boldly looked upwards at Chase. "I've always been more of a _hands on _learner, y'know…"

Chase grinned, clearly _very_ pleased. "Well," he said, bending down and bringing a hand up to rest on Jack's jaw, "allow me to better accommodate your learning style…"

Jack's entire world quickly became focused on the completely awesome fact that Chase was kissing him, and the newly tuned up laptop was easily forgotten.

**Twenty -**

When Chase teleported himself to Jack Spicer's location, intending to speak with him on a matter of great importance, he did not expect to find himself in the genius's bathroom.

Neither, of course, did he expect to find said genius bent over the toilet and retching miserably.

"Praying to the porcelain god, Spicer?"

Jack looked up sharply, half-turning to face his idol. The quickness of the movement clearly upset his stomach, for he immediately gagged and whirled back around.

Chase came a few steps closer while Jack struggled to get control of himself.

"Chase," he rasped breathlessly after a minute or two. The rawness of his throat was truly cringe-worthy. "Yeah…I've been in here all morning."

Chase's first instinct was to berate the young man for drinking heavily if he were unable to handle the consequences, but Jack could _not_ be hung over. He would have smelled at least _some_ of alcohol, if that were the case.

All Jack smelled of right now was illness and misery.

"What's wrong with you?" Chase asked.

"Food poisoning," Jack muttered, wiping his mouth.

Chase raised an eyebrow, inspecting the goth on his knees before him. Truly, Jack looked terrible. It was easy to believe he had been here throwing up all morning, from his tousled, just-out-of-bed hair to his loose and worn attire (obviously night clothes only).

"How did you manage to get food poisoning, Spicer?" he wondered. "I was certain your diet consisted solely of pudding."

Jack gave a short, harsh laugh in response. "If that were the case, I'd be fine." He shook his head. "Nah, my dad blew into town late last night and dragged me out to eat. Turns out, the places open that late aren't too strict on employee cleanliness."

Chase 'tsk'ed. "And you haven't sued yet? Son of business moguls that you are?"

Jack turned (more slowly, this time) to grin at him. "Oh, trust me, lawyers have been called and paperwork is going through. I'd have made some angry phone calls, but it's hard to sound threatening when you're puking up your entire digestive tract." He paused a moment. "Could be worse, though. I heard Dad's doing the same thing but from the other end."

Chase grimaced. "Pleasant."

The warlord watched as Jack sat back on his heels and gave him a tired look. "I…almost forgot to ask," he admitted. "Um…what d'you need?"

Chase shook his head. "I merely wished to speak with you about something," he said. "It can wait."

Jack frowned at him. "You sure? I mean…I know I'm probably not good for, like…an evil partnership thing right now, but you can explain it to me and I'll get back to it later…"

"While your eagerness to serve me is _most _pleasing," said Chase, "it can wait. I shall return another time: you are clearly in need of rest."

"_Tell_ me about it," Jack agreed easily. "I've been wanting to go back to bed for _hours._"

"Why haven't you?"

"Have I mentioned before that I have a _very _weak constitution?" Jack wondered sheepishly. "I could've sworn I did at some point. Anyway, pretty much every time I try to get up, I make myself sick and ending up needing to puke again. Or at least dry heave."

"You can't have one of your robots carry you?"

"Tried it," said Jack, "same outcome. They're machines: mine are pretty advanced, but there's only so much I can do on a budget and their joints are kinda…jerky."

Chase eyed him for a moment.

"H-hey!" Jack yelped as the dragonlord's arms came around him. "What the hell are you doing?"

The goth jolted in an instinctive attempt at struggle. It promptly failed when the movement made him decidedly queasy and he doubled over with a groan.

Chase quickly had a hand on Jack's stomach. The warmth of it was grounding enough that Jack did not throw up again, even as Chase resumed picking him up.

"Calm down, Jack," he said, rising smoothly and slowly with Jack in his arms. "Is it so unthinkable that I might want to help you rather than hurt you?"

Jack stared up at him. "…uh…now, if I say yes…"

"You will find yourself slung over my shoulder before you can blink," Chase finished for him, already exiting the bathroom. "I had thought myself very generous carrying you like this."

At the prospect of being upside down, frequently jostled, and having hard, unyielding metal pressing into his stomach, Jack winced. "Er…you're right, this is fine, thanks."

"I thought so."

Nothing more was said between them until Chase crossed the threshold of Jack's bedroom and settled him onto the mattress.

Jack couldn't help but wonder just how Chase had known where it was without being told, but he didn't have much time to think on it when the wastebasket by his desk was relocated to his bedside with a metallic clunk. It was obviously placed there in the event that Jack should become sick again.

Jack looked from it to Chase before declaring, "You're an angel. Whatever the evil version of an angel is, you're seriously it."

Chase snorted. "You're _far _too easily pleased," he said.

For a minute, Jack wondered if it would be too much like looking a gift-horse in the mouth to bring it up, but his curiosity prevented him from being completely silent.

"You're being really nice today," he said, only to quickly backtrack and rephrase. "To me, I mean. You're not a nice guy, I would _never_ say that and I mean _no _insult whatsoever, but—"

"Spicer," Chase cut him off.

"What I _mean _is," Jack scratched at his scalp, looking particularly awkward, "um…thanks."

Chase smiled at him, a very cordial, very _pretty_ thing. "You're welcome."

"So…are you sure you don't want to tell me why you came here?" Jack wondered. "I'd totally hear you out…"

"You're _very _insecure, aren't you?"

Jack blinked. "What?"

"You fear that if I don't involve you in my plans _now_, I won't _ever_." The startled expression on Jack's face was proof enough. "Spicer, you can rest assured that I am not about to get any evil plans underway without you."

"S…seriously?"

"Of course," said Chase. "You are vital to my latest…operation."

"I am?" Jack looked excited at the prospect. "Well, what is it? How do I fi—"

Chase stopped him with a shake of his head. "It is not a time sensitive venture," he said firmly. "You will recover in a matter of days. I will return to fetch you then."

Though Jack would never acknowledge it as such, it was most definitely a pout that came over his face at that. Sounding disappointed, but resigned, he said, "Alright… But you better not cut me out of this if I don't get better fast enough!"

Chase thought briefly on his plans to officially induct Jack as his first and only apprentice/consort thanks to the youth's vast improvement in the ways of evil (and attractiveness) as of late. With such progress, and such potential, it would be downright foolish for Chase _not _to act.

"I couldn't cut you out of this plot if I tried," he promised.

This appeared to appease Jack, for he grinned. "Good," he said proudly, "'cause Jack Spicer is irreplaceable!"

Chase couldn't help but smirk as he took his leave. "You most certainly are."

**...**

**A/N: Still for Silvarbelle!**

**_Fourteen -_Ahhh, brotherly love: ain't nothin' like it. XD**

**_Fifteen -_Jealousy's always a fun trope. So is Chase using Guan to make Jack jealous just because he can and it benefits him. XD**

**_Sixteen -_It's so much fun to play with the cool variant of Sylvia Spicer as opposed to the evil or neglectful ones. I just had to include her somewhere. ;P**

**_Seventeen -_And of course, the 'Jack gets tired of taking crap from everyone' fic! XD**

**_Eighteen -_I imagine with everything Jack has to put up with, he has very high blood pressure. In this particular instance, that high blood pressure has basically initiated kidney failure.**

**_Nineteen -_ I like the idea of Chase keeping track of everybody he comes in frequent contact with. I also like the idea of Chase keeping even _better_ track of people he wants to be in more _intimate_ contact with. ;P**

**_Twenty -_And this one just because it's fun to torture Jack. XD**

**And there's Part 3 for you! More parts on the way. :)**


	4. Twenty One to Twenty Four

**33 Ways (Jack Could've Hooked Up With Chase)**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, implications of sexual situations, etc.**

**...**

**Twenty One -**

Chase came to, feeling lightheaded and leagues more disoriented than anything that bode well. The first thing he heard was a frantic voice calling his name.

"Chase!" There were hands on his shoulders, bringing him up into a sitting position. "Holy crap, are you okay?"

Chase opened his eyes and was promptly greeted with the most stunning creature he had ever seen.

It was a boy—a young _man_ kneeling at his side with vivid concern in his red (yes, _red_!) eyes. His hair was a shockingly bright red-orange color, in plain contrast to his skin which was pale as snow.

For a moment, Chase wondered if this youth might truly be _dead,_or on the verge of it to be so pale and wear so much black, but he appeared too energetic for someone about to die and he carried no scent of illness, injury, or impending mortality with him.

How this exotic-looking man knew his name was a mystery (for surely, Chase would've remembered such a unique appearance) right up until the sound of laughter called his attention to a group of people standing not far away.

Three males and a female. The female was apparently Japanese and wore her hair in pigtails. The tallest of the males was broad-shouldered, blonde, and wore a cowboy hat. The shortest was _very_ small, indeed, with a round, bald head and a yellow complexion. The third was darker skinned with brown hair and green eyes.

The one thing they all had in common were the robes of the Xiaolin.

Monks, obviously, thought Chase, but none he had ever seen before.

The female monk stepped forward, grinning as she spoke. "It's no use, Spicer," she said. "He doesn't even know you anymore."

Spicer? Chase glanced to the youth at his side, watching fear flicker across his face only to quickly be covered up by a scowling bravado. This…Spicer, whoever he was, clearly was not on good terms with the Xiaolin, making it most likely that he, too, was Heylin.

"What did you _do _to him?" he demanded.

Chase was rather curious, himself.

"Oh, come on," the green-eyed male answered, holding something up. "You remember what _this_does, don't you?"

"I _know_ what the fucking Wushan Geyser does, Pedrosa!" Spicer snapped at him. A fiery temper to fit his red hair, it seemed. "That doesn't explain why he wouldn't _know_ me!"

And Chase quite concurred with that point: the Wushan Geyser was a memory-erasing Shen Gong Wu, but only short term memory. These people seemed to know him, and yet he had no recollection of ever meeting them. Obviously, his memory had been wiped _beyond _the short term, which would be impossible unless…

"The Eagle Scope," Chase said under his breath.

Spicer turned, obviously having heard him. It was uncertain how much experience the youth had with Shen Gong Wu, but it was apparently enough to know what the Eagle Scope was and the focusing and amplifying effect it had when used with other Wu.

Full comprehension dawned on Spicer's face immediately and he glared at the monks. "You bastards used the Eagle Scope?"

The small monk spoke next. "It had to be done," he proclaimed with haughtiness that did not fit his size. It was he who carried the Eagle Scope. "Chase Young is too valuable an ally to us."

_Ally_? Chase was _no _ally to the Xiaolin! Not since—

Oh. So _that_ was their game.

These…monks were clearly too intimidated by him to carry on any longer. They must have gotten it into their heads that they could erase his memories far back enough that he would revert to his Xiaolin self and aid their battle against his kind.

It was a cowardly move in and of itself, but that they believed they had the _strength _to wipe so many years… Pitiful, really.

Chase Young, as he knew himself now, was very much Heylin and he did not at all appreciate this spineless assault.

"Hey, Chase!" one of the monks said, Pedrosa, Chase thought he'd heard him called. "Why don't you come over here with us? We're heading back to the temple."

With little thought on the matter, Chase smiled as warmly as he knew how and got to his feet.

Of course, he could feel the shock and dismay radiating from Spicer as he did so. He must have been an ally of Chase's and while he did not _remember_making any commitment to the young man, he ultimately had no intention of dishonoring it.

Chase took a step towards the monks, but was immediately stalled by a hand on his arm.

"Chase…?"

Oh, did Spicer sound heartbroken at his apparent defection. The look in his eyes was deeply pained and it was quickly obvious to Chase that this boy was in _love_ with him. That combined with all the touching he had been doing, when the warlord had always made a point to discourage those that would put their hands on him…

Spicer was more than an ally, it seemed. His familiarity around Chase and his fascinating looks…it was more than possible that he was an apprentice, or perhaps a consort. Maybe even both.

That would make what Chase was about to do much harder on him, but he could make it up to him later.

For now…

Spicer gasped as his hand was shrugged off and Chase strode towards the monks.

Chase returned the smile all four of them gave him.

"You are Xiaolin monks?" Chase asked.

"You bet!" said Pedrosa smugly.

"You are proud of yourself," Chase deduced. "You think yourself clever for trying to trick me this way."

It took the monks a matter of seconds to process that statement and realize they had failed.

Chase needed far less time than that to deliver a kick that knocked Pedrosa back and the Wushan Geyser out of his hands. He caught it midair and tossed it in the direction of Spicer. As soon as he was certain Spicer had it, he turned on the smallest monk and wrenched the Eagle Scope away from him.

This monk put up a bit of a fight for it and Chase could tell that if he hadn't been caught off-guard, the battle might have lasted more than a minute or two.

Even so, Chase was quickly in possession of the Shen Gong Wu and he sneered as the Xiaolin grouped together in a defensive battle stance.

"You are pathetic," he told them. "Leave _now,_ before you embarrass yourselves further."

Thankfully, among the many things this generation of monks was (cowardly, foolish, lacking in morals), they still possessed a healthy fear of the mighty Chase Young.

They turned and ran, climbing aboard the temple's dragon and fleeing for their lives.

Before they were even fully out of sight, Chase was tackled and a pair of arms were squeezing him tightly around the middle.

"Oh, thank god," a noticeably relieved Spicer breathed. "You're still you!"

Chase made no effort to push him away. "Yes, I am. Unfortunately," he confessed, "I did not get out of their little scheme completely unscathed. What is the current year, Spicer?"

To Spicer's credit, he answered promptly in terms of the Western calendar.

Mentally converting to the Chinese calendar, Chase determined the year and cross-referenced it with the last solid memory he had. He snorted. "Those monks truly are pathetic," he said. "Between them, they could only erase about twenty years."

"…so you really _don't_ remember me, then."

Chase could see the disappointment on Spicer's face and he laid a hand on his shoulder. "No, I don't, but you can remind me."

It seemed that Spicer was very unused to teleportation, for he gasped and clung to Chase when the landscape melted away and became the interior of the dragonlord's palace.

Pleased to see that nothing about it had changed in the twenty or so years he had forgotten, Chase returned his attention to Spicer.

"Tell me everything of importance that has been taken from me."

"Um…okay," said the youth. "I'm Jack."

Chase frowned. "I thought your name was Spicer."

"It is, kinda. It's my surname." Jack sounded mildly disheartened as he assured, "You call me Spicer all the time, though, so…you don't have to worry about it."

"If Jack is your name, that is what I shall call you, _Jack._" Jack brightened almost immediately and Chase was pleased with his decision to use the name. 'Spicer' rolled off the tongue easier, but 'Jack' made that lovely young man smile in a downright corruptible way.

Jack continued to speak. "Uh, anyway, those guys that did this to you are the Xiaolin monks. Kimiko Tohomiko is the girl, Raimundo Pedrosa was the one you took the Wushan Geyser from, the cowboy is Clay Bailey, and the little one is Omi."

"No last name?" Chase wondered, to which Jack shook his head.

"He was raised by the temple, I think," he said. "Far as I've been able to gather, he was an orphan taken in by the monks."

"So, he has trained his whole life. That certainly explains a lot: he seems to be a strong fighter."

"Yeah," Jack flatly agreed, "he's great."

Sensing jealousy in Spicer's tone, Chase changed the subject. "And what of the Heylin?" he asked. "There is you and I, obviously, but are there any others?"

"A whole bunch," said Jack. "Most of 'em come and go, so they're not that important, but uh…I guess there's Wuya…"

"Wuya?" Chase frowned deeply. "How did she escape her puzzle box?"

"For the record, I had _no _idea she was in there," Jack said hastily. "My dad sent it to me as a gift and…yeah."

Chase stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "It could be worse," he assured in the closest a Heylin overlord could get to comforting. "You could've released Hannibal Bean."

Jack snorted, which made Chase admittedly wary. What he said next confirmed his suspicions. "Yeah, _that _honor went to Omi."

"_Bean_ is free, too?" Chase demanded.

"Yeah. Uh…sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

And Jack did look genuinely apologetic. In the face of such puppy eyes, _far_ too cute for someone Heylin, Chase found he held no anger towards the youth whatsoever. From his mention of Wuya, it sounded rather like he had been dragged into this and that made it decidedly not his fault.

"It's alright," he said, laying a hand on Spicer's back. "It is simply…_vexing_ that the two decades I can't currently remember were the two decades wherein the status quo changed drastically."

Chase couldn't help but feel tension in Jack's shoulders and he took notice that it had not been there a moment ago. Experimentally, he stroked his hand along Jack's spine, only for the youth to shiver and take a step away.

Which was most certainly odd. As a consort, or even an apprentice, Spicer should not have been unfamiliar with his touch. His master's hand should not make him feel uncomfortable unless he was supremely unused to it.

The only explanation Chase could think of was that Jack was a very _new _consort, which was what prompted his next question.

"How long have you been in my service, Jack?"

Jack whirled to face him with a surprised expression. "I…wh…_what_?"

Chase frowned at the reaction. "How long have you been my consort?" he rephrased. "You are very attractive, and yet you do not seem accustomed to being touched. Have I not taken you to bed yet?"

Jack stared. "Yuh…you're asking how long we've been having…_sex_?" He practically squeaked the last word.

"Yes," said Chase, "that is precisely my question."

He watched as Jack took a step backwards and raised a hand to his head. "Uh…well, let's see. Um. Today's Friday, so we started having sex…never. We've never done that."

Chase was startled silent.

Jack, however, continued. "To…be honest, I don't even think you _like_ me very much. We…we've never even really been on friendly terms."

"Ridiculous," said Chase. "Impossible. I have only 'known' you for a short time, and yet I can plainly see that you are a confident, intelligent, loyal, and _certainly_ comely young man. How could I _possibly_ have known you for any longer and _not _acted?"

"Six years," Jack said suddenly.

"What?"

"Six years," he repeated. "We…met six years ago. I was only thirteen, then."

Chase looked at him. "Have you been in love with me the same amount of time?"

Again, Jack appeared shocked by the question, but Chase interrupted before he could say anything else.

"I can see it in your eyes, Jack. You _do _love me, though I can't imagine why if I've given you the impression that I don't even like you."

Spicer sighed. "I dunno," he said eventually. "Maybe? It might've been a crush back then, but it just…never went away."

"This does not make sense." Chase folded his arms over his chest, pondering the issue. "I am not blind. Surely, I must've known of your infatuation with me. You say that in six years, I never once gave you the impression that I enjoyed your company?"

Jack shook his head. "Actually, there's a charm on your door that has it set to crush me whenever I try to use it. It took me a few years to get it, but if that doesn't say 'Keep Out'…"

Chase began pacing slowly, trying to make sense of the dilemma. Spicer, at the edge of his awareness, was not helping him do so. He was only standing there, but his striking appearance and the way he subordinately and silently waited for a command from Chase was _distracting._

He must have been brain damaged at some point in the last twenty years. It was the only thing he could think of to explain why he had seen Jack Spicer, attractive, in love with him, and fully comprehending of his authority as a Heylin lord and done absolutely _nothing_ about it.

Certainly, Spicer had been fairly young at their first meeting, but in _six years_ Chase should have acted _somehow._ Unless Jack had been a completely different person—…

Chase ceased his pacing. "Jack. What were you like when we first met?"

Jack's gaze went straight to his boots and Chase was fairly certain he'd discovered the problem. "I was…pretty much a fanboy," he admitted. "I guess I was kind of annoying. No…I was really annoying. Wuya only hung out with me because she didn't have a body. She ditched me for you the second she got one."

"You had no allies?" Chase asked.

"Not really," said Jack. "I had my robots," he paused, remembering that Chase did not remember before explaining, "that's my…gimmick, I guess: I make robots and machines. But it's not like they stuck around 'cause they _liked_ me. I _made_ them to stick around. As for other allies…"

Chase saw the shamefaced grimace and imagined that whatever Jack was thinking about now was something he did not like remembering. "What?" he prompted.

"I sucked at villain etiquette," Jack confessed. "I mean, yeah, I'd partner up with anybody, but I'd throw them under the bus at the first convenience."

"You had no sense of loyalty," Chase realized.

"Well, in my defense, Wuya was my role model for that kind of thing and she was always skipping out on me." Jack shrugged. "I know it's not an excuse, but I didn't _get _it back then."

"And you get it now?"

"I like to think I do."

"Then, you have changed quite a bit," said Chase.

"Probably not that much," Jack replied. "I'm still probably pretty annoying and I'm sure as hell not Mr. Popular all of a sudden, but y'know…I _do_ get that not everybody is going to stab me in the back and I don't have to betray them first."

"I can see as much. You proved your loyalty to me today when you stood by my side against those pathetic excuses for monks." Chase came forward and once more put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "I think I understand now why I hadn't made you my consort."

Jack looked up at him. "Why?"

"If you have known me for as long as you say you have, then you know that I have a strict code of honor." Jack nodded and Chase continued. "I am less than endeared to those that operate without one. If you were as you described yourself, I can see myself being turned off by your apparent lack of principle."

"Oh…"

"With no skill in combat," an assumption from the way Jack carried himself and his incredibly lean runner's build, but an assumption Chase was not corrected for, "an absence of loyalty, and only a…_gimmick,_ as you called it, to redeem you, I can see how I might pass you off as a mere nuisance. If you remained that way long enough, I can also see how I might decide you incapable of change."

"But…I _did_ change," Jack said quietly. "Kinda, anyway…"

"And _I_ can see that," Chase agreed, "because I have the benefit of being free of that particular prejudice. I see _you,_ now, Jack, and as I've already said, I like what I see."

Jack looked briefly happy at that, but his face quickly fell. "You won't think that when you get your memories back," he muttered.

"I doubt that quite a bit." Chase reached down and took the Wushan Geyser from Jack's hand. He now held both. "These Shen Gong Wu together erase a certain person's memory. They do not change who a person is at their core or replace the void they leave with new memories. When I combine these with the Reversing Mirror, it will cause me to _remember_ instead of forget. I will remember this conversation we're having now. I will remember that I looked at you and did not see who you _were,_ but who you _are._ Most importantly, I will remember that you had the perfect opportunity to lie your way into my bed but chose the honorable route and spoke the truth."

"You…you're sure?" asked Jack. "'cause the way we're talking right now…I like it a lot better than…before."

"I'm completely certain," Chase said with a grin, "but if I am to get my memories back, I will need your help. To my knowledge, I do not currently possess the Reversing Mirror."

"I do," Jack said. "I won it in a Showdown just last week. It's in my Shen Gong Wu vault at home."

"How perfectly convenient." Chase shifted the Wushan Geyser to the crook of the arm with which he also held the Eagle Scope. This freed his other arm to pull Jack close to him.

"Of course, as of right now, I have no idea where you live in order to teleport us there," he explained when Jack gave him a startled look. "If you concentrate on the location, my magic will be able to pick up on it and take us both there."

"Oh, right…yeah." Even as Jack focused on the precise coordinates of his home, he asked, "You're _sure _you won't just…forget about this afterwards?"

Feeling a slight tug from within as his mystical energies locked onto the location, Chase held Jack more tightly. "Absolutely positive, Jack," he promised, "but do allow me to prove it to you."

A whirl of magic transported them both away, leaving the palace once more empty save for the feline minions that guarded it.

**Twenty Two -**

"So, _Jack._ What did you say you did again?"

Jack tried very hard not to make a face at the question. "I…build robots," he said, not for the first time that night and with the way things were going, probably not the last.

The brunette with the blonde girl who'd asked the question smiled at him. "Ohh," she giggled, "you make toys! That's cute."

The blonde playfully elbowed him. "I have a little sister who's been dying for one of those little hamster things," she said conspiratorially. "You think you can make me one?"

Jack frowned and shook his head. "You're simplifying it too much. I don't do toys, I make _robots._"

The brunette tilted her head. "What, you mean, like…Terminator?"

Jack _really_ wanted to sigh. If these girls were smarter, he'd have made an effort to explain better, but he already knew he wouldn't get anywhere. "Something like that, yeah."

"Becky," she gasped, smiling, "you didn't tell me he was super-smart!"

"I didn't know," the blonde one, Becky apparently, said. "You usually don't see guys who are cute _and _smart."

Another man might've grinned at that, taken the praise and then gone the quickest route of seducing these girls into his bed.

Jack wanted to do nothing of the sort. Consequently, he gave a fake sounding laugh, hoping the girls would get the hint that he wasn't interested and go somewhere else. There were, after all, many, many, _many _other people to bother at this particular gala.

Unfortunately for Jack, they were too dumb to get the hint.

"So, you're American, right?" asked the brunette.

"Melissa," gasped Becky, "don't be so blunt!"

"No, it's fine," said Jack. "My parents were both American, but I was born here."

"So, you've lived in China your whole life?" Melissa wondered.

Jack knew he shouldn't encourage them, but as of now, he didn't see any way to exit the conversation. "I've lived a little bit just about everywhere, but yeah, mostly in China."

"You must be _really_ good with languages," Becky complimented him. "Your English is so good! You don't even have an accent."

Resisting the urge to point out that he would've had to learn English alongside Chinese, as neither of his parents initially spoke the latter, Jack simply said, "Thanks."

"Hey, we're here for another week," said Melissa. "Would you teach me to speak some China?"

Oh, _god._ "Maybe some other time," Jack replied noncommittally. _Why,_ oh, _why _had he sworn to dad on the welfare of his monthly allowance that he wouldn't be rude to anyone here?

…oh. Right. He needed money to build things. _Dammit._

One of these days, Jack made a new oath to himself, he would patent and sell some of his creations so he wouldn't have to rely on his parents' money anymore.

Jack glanced across the room, finally noticing a familiar face. The man wasn't anyone he _enjoyed_ talking to, but even a boring rundown of the current state of the stock market would be preferable to _this._

He took a step backwards, opening his mouth to make up some excuse about needing to talk to the other man.

He was interrupted by the blonde girl.

"So, _Jack,_" good god, did he _hate _the way she said his name, "do you wear colored contacts?"

By the time Jack glanced back over to where his escape had been, the man was gone. _Crap._

"Uh, no," he said. "I don't."

"No way!" Melissa pointed at his eyes and Jack reeled back a little. "They're _red._"

As if Jack could not _possibly _have been aware of it. "Yeah, I know," he reluctantly explained. "I'm an albino. That's why I'm so pale."

"Ooh, I've never met an albino before!" giggled Becky.

Melissa smiled at him. "They're all evil on TV," she tried to joke. "Are you evil, too?"

Another very wooden laugh on Jack's part. If he agreed, it would seem too much like he was flirting back, so laughing was the best he could do.

The girls laughed with him and it seemed that Becky was ready to go in for the kill.

"I have to ask," she said coyly. "Are you seeing anybody?"

Oh, thank _god: _an out.

"Yeah," Jack said quickly. "I am, actually."

Becky pouted, looking distinctly disappointed. "I don't suppose you have a brother?"

"Afraid not," he replied apologetically and again, he opened his mouth to make an excuse to leave.

Melissa, however, was not content to leave it at that.

"Awww," she said, "that's so sweet. Is your girlfriend pretty?"

Jack only need a glance at the knowing look on Melissa's face and he _knew _that she was trying to call his bluff.

She underestimated how good of a liar he could be.

"I think so," he said. "That's why we're seeing each other, obviously."

"Is she Chinese?" Melissa persisted.

Being experienced in bluffing his way out of situations like these, Jack knew the trick to faking an event or an excuse (or as in this case, a person) was to latch onto something (or someone) real.

That in mind, he answered, "Yeah, we met a few years back through some mutual acquaintances. We kept in touch and things went from there."

"So, how long have you been dating?" Becky wondered. It was clear that she had caught on to her friend's plan and hoped to expose him, as well.

Jack wasn't about to give either of them the satisfaction—not to mention open himself up to even more insistent flirting.

"Not long," he said. "We've known each other for awhile, but we didn't really click that way at the beginning. For awhile there, I think she actually might've hated me, but y'know, I took some time away from her, did some growing, and well…"

Neither of the girls was ready to give up.

"What does she like to do?" Melissa asked him.

"Does she have any pets?" Becky followed up.

"She's good at martial arts," Jack said. He knew these girls would not find the answer to be too obvious and 'fake' as they seemed the type to believe in stereotypes. They did not question it, and he continued. "As for pets, she's got a few cats. They're all pretty nasty. Half the time, I can't leave her place without getting covered in scratches."

"Well, what does she look like?"

"Dark hair," Jack told them, "pretty long."

"And her eyes?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?" Melissa demanded, certain she had him now.

"_She _wears colored contacts," Jack said, proud of how quickly he was able to think up the excuse. "The contacts are gold, though. I don't think I've ever seen her without them."

Melissa looked like should could've cursed.

"You haven't seen her take out her contacts," Becky pointed out. "Does that mean you haven't slept together?"

And she was the one who had chastised her _friend _for being too blunt!

Jack could've said it was none of her business, but he had a feeling it would leave more of an impression if he were to be…emotionally honest.

"We're waiting," he said matter-of-factly. "I wasn't really ready for a commitment before and why should she have sex with me if I can't commit, right? But things have been different lately and I'm starting to think we'll be ready for that step soon."

Clearly disheartened, Becky asked in a hushed tone, "Do you love her?"

"I…think I do," Jack answered slowly, faking only the sincerity of the moment and not the sentiment in general. "She's gorgeous and smart…and she's so cool. I've liked her for a really long time and somewhere along the way, it turned into a lot more. I could probably spend the rest of my life with her."

The blonde gave a soft 'awww,' and Jack was sure he had gotten away with the lie.

Until Melissa smirked at him. "What's her name?"

_Damn._

"Her name?" he couldn't help but blurt out. "It's…uh…"

"Aha!" exclaimed Melissa. "I knew it: you're just playing hard to get!"

Jack blanched, even as Becky perked up.

"Oh, you don't have a girlfriend!" she realized. "You're just shy. That's _so_ cute!"

God _dammit_! It wasn't enough that Jack had been caught in a lie trying to escape these two's flirting—no, they had to read into it completely the wrong way and think he was actually _interested_ in them!

"No," he said weakly, "I'm really not shy. I just—"

"Oh, come on, _Jack,_" said Becky. "You don't have to lie." She spared a grin to her friend. "I know two attractive ladies like us can be kind of intimidating together, but really, we don't bite."

"Not unless you want us to," winked Melissa.

"That's…um…" Jack tried desperately to think of _something_ to say. "I…"

"Jackie, you should show us around the city," the brunette crooned at him. "It's our first time in China and we want you to show us _everything._"

"I really don't think I should…"

"Why not? It's not like you have a girlfriend," Becky pointed out.

Jack wondered if his father would consider it 'rude' to just run away as fast as he could.

"Because…I—"

"Because he has a _boy_friend," interrupted someone from just behind Jack.

The goth went still at the familiarity of the voice and the urge to bolt multiplied tenfold when he turned and saw none other than Chase Young standing at his side.

Of course, just when he'd been wondering how the situation could possibly get any worse, _Chase_ shows up.

Chase, the all-powerful, evil warlord who could easily turn him into a nasty, little smear on the floor.

Chase, the man he'd been basing his lie to these girls off of.

Chase, who had likely just heard _everything _he'd said.

_Fuck._

"Who are you?" Melissa asked, eyeing the tall, _handsome_ man who'd just appeared. Becky, it seemed, was too speechless to ask.

"My name is Chase," Jack heard his idol say through the blind terror keeping him frozen in place. An arm came around him and Jack jumped when a warm hand gripped his shoulder. "_I'm_ Jack's boyfriend."

…_**what**_?

Becky shook her head, confused. "But…he said he had a _girl_friend…"

It seemed that Chase realized Jack would not be speaking anytime soon, for he answered for him without hesitation.

"Between us," he said, charm dripping from his tone, "Jack isn't exactly _out_ yet. He's always been a bit nervous about admitting to being with another man, but I'm sure _you _lovely ladies won't look down on him for it."

"Oh. Uh, no, of course not," smiled Melissa. "We're…sorry, we didn't know he was taken."

"And he's really cute," chimed in Becky, "so you can't blame us for trying."

Unbelievably (to Jack), Chase laughed. "Yes, he is," he agreed, "but if you'll excuse us, I need to borrow him for a moment."

Of course, the girls agreed and allowed Jack to be dragged away through scores of nicely dressed people, away from the party and into the rest of the house.

Somewhere on the way, Jack recovered his ability to speak.

"Are you gonna kill me, now?"

Chase turned to him. "Kill you? Why on earth would I kill you?"

"You heard the stuff I said, right?"

Chase nodded.

"Then, you know that I lied."

"About my gender," said Chase. "I don't care about that and I certainly wouldn't _kill_ you for it. You were just trying to save yourself from those twits."

Jack shook his head. "No, no, I mean…all the _other _stuff I lied about! You're not mad about that?"

"Of course not. You weren't lying."

"What?" Jack gaped at him. "Yes, I was! I said—"

"You _said _that I didn't always like you," Chase pointed out. "You said that you took time away to mature and that I grew to like you better because of it. You said that I would have nothing to do with you unless you were ready for a commitment and that 'we would be ready for that step, soon.'"

"But…that never happened…"

"Oh, it happened," said Chase. "I simply hadn't gotten around to telling you about it until now." He smirked at the shock-stricken expression Jack gave him. "It was too uncanny the way you were able to determine my plans for our relationship entirely on accident. I decided I ought to step in to save you for that unintentional brilliance alone."

Jack could only stare at him for a long, long moment, even as he was finally led out into a secluded hall. "…does this mean your cats won't attack me the next time I come over?"

Chase laughed. "It means a _lot_ more than that, Spicer," he purred. "It _means_ that if you play your cards right from here, I may finally let you…ah, how did those girls put it? Let you see me with my 'contacts' out?"

Jack flushed deeply, looking around quickly to find that they were the only ones in the hallway and no one had heard.

Perhaps a bit more boldly than he felt, Jack looked up at Chase. "Uh…this _is_ my house. And…I _do_ have a bedroom in it…"

Chase grinned at him. "By all means, Spicer," he said, "I would _love _for you to show it to me."

Jack brightened and eagerly led Chase to a nearby set of stairs.

Back at the gala, a morose Becky and Melissa were drinking champagne.

"This sucks," muttered Melissa. "He was _adorable._"

"Well, you know what they say," sighed Becky. "All the cute ones are either taken or gay—or both."

**Twenty Three -**

Jack slowly trudged up the stairs, feeling exhaustion in every last bone of his body.

It had been…a _long_ day, to say the least.

It started for Jack at roughly 3:00 AM, when he'd jerked up out of what should have been a sound sleep thanks to a nightmare about being late for a very important final. Regardless of the fact that he hadn't taken a final (or even attended a class) in years, it had apparently rattled his psyche enough that his body refused to go back to sleep.

Wide awake and hating it, Jack had tossed and turned for a few aggravating hours before heading down to his lab and busying himself in random repairs. The monotony of the task had him nearly nodding off right there on his work table…

…right up until his Shen Gong Wu alarm went off, of course.

After that, it had been an unpleasant (and _cold_) flight up to the Arctic Circle for a painful fight with the Xiaolin monks and a Showdown that he inevitably lost before blessedly being able to go back home and sleep.

Or so he thought. Of _course,_ Wuya had been there waiting for him, having been kicked out by Chase and looking for someone to shack up with. It had taken _hours_ for Jack to convince her that no, he was _not_ playing hard to get and he really had _no _interest in teaming up with her again.

By the time she finally left, Jack was starving and could not very well go to bed on an empty stomach. He had to stay awake even longer in order to cook himself dinner and then eat it, and somewhere in the midst of that, one of his bots managed to fry its hard drive. That led to yet _more_ repairs, and by the time Jack was finished, it was well after midnight.

Yawning, Jack made it through his bedroom door and began shrugging out of his clothes, replacing them with baggy, well-worn pajamas before flopping onto his bed. Not even bothering to pull the covers over himself, he closed his eyes and eagerly began drifting off to sleep.

Until a loud beep from across the room startled him into sitting bolt upright.

Finding the source to be the laptop on his desk, he groaned. "What _now_?"

Jack made his way over to the computer and plopped into the chair before it, shaking the mouse to get rid of the screen saver and see what program had made the noise.

Surprisingly enough, it was his instant messenger.

Jack frowned. "What the hell…?"

And the reaction was appropriate because Jack did not really have friends he chatted with online and the most he used that particular program for was checking in with his mother while she was away.

Yet there, on the screen was a message from a username Jack most certainly didn't recognize.

_HuoJin: You aren't asleep yet, are you, Jack?_

Jack shook his head. He really should ignore this: he was _tired._

**TechLord: I was trying to be. Who is this?**

The 'and how do you know my name' went untyped, but Jack only had to wait a few seconds for his answer.

_HuoJin: My name is Jùnjié. You don't remember me?_

Jack briefly wracked his brain for information. The name was…familiar, but he was exhausted and found himself unable to place a face with it.

**TechLord: Sorry, no. Not ringing any bells.**

_HuoJin: That's a shame. I definitely remember you._

Jack snorted.

**TechLord: Yeah, I'll bet it's hard to forget the freaky-looking albino kid. Seriously, what, did we go to school together?**

The stranger's response was…unexpected.

_HuoJin: I would hardly call you 'freaky.' I like the way you look, Jack, and no, we were never classmates._

Startled, Jack quickly typed his reply.

**TechLord: Then, how did you get my screen name and what do you want?**

_HuoJin: I have my ways, and there's no need for you to worry. I don't want anything from you but to talk._

**TechLord: Talk. What about? I don't even know you.**

_HuoJin: Yes, you do, Jack. You **gave** me this contact yourself. I distinctly recall you telling me I could use it to reach you whenever._

Jack paused. That most definitely didn't sound like him. The most socializing he did was at the parties he was sometimes forced to attend for the sake of his parents' business, and he had no recollection of ever meeting somebody interesting there, but…

After a moment of thought, he replied.

**TechLord: I'm sorry if I'm being a little paranoid. I just don't remember that and to be honest, I've had a rough day.**

_HuoJin: No offense taken. Would you like to talk about it?_

Jack shrugged to himself. Why the hell not?

**TechLord: Not that much to talk about, really. Low on sleep, high on jerks—the perfect recipe for a crappy day.**

_HuoJin: Not many friends, eh?_

**TechLord: Wow, _somebody's_ blunt.**

Jack found himself slightly less offended at what Jùnjié said next.

_HuoJin: I mean nothing by it. I can't boast of many friends, either._

Jack couldn't resist.

**TechLord: You're not some lonely old pedobear friend of my dad's, are you?**

_HuoJin: Funny, but no. I may be an old soul, but I can assure you that my body is young._

**TechLord: Which brings up the fact that you seem to know me and I don't really know anything about you.**

However, Jùnjié insisted.

_HuoJin: You know me, Jack. I'm sure it'll come back to you the next time we meet._

**TechLord: We're going to _meet,_ now?**

_HuoJin: That's why I messaged you. It's been awhile since we've been face-to-face and I have to admit, I would greatly like to see you._

Jack frowned, uncertain.

**TechLord: I don't know… You keep saying we've already met, but I don't remember it and meeting people through the internet can be risky.**

_HuoJin: A public place, then. A meeting in broad daylight surrounded by scores of other people. If you see me and truly don't recognize me, you'll be able to leave and there'll be nothing I can do about it._

"Mmm…" Another thing Jack should just say no to.

**TechLord: I'll think about it. When and where might this be?**

_HuoJin: There should be a park not far from your house. I was thinking we could meet there Wednesday afternoon._

Jack knew the place. It was always pretty populated that time of day, so if this guy really _did_ turn out to be a creep, it shouldn't be much of an issue. It was currently a Sunday (technically Monday, being after midnight), so that gave him a few days to decide, too.

**TechLord: That sounds fine. It may or may not be a date.**

The reply came quick.

_HuoJin: A date? I quite like the sound of that._

**TechLord: No need to be sarcastic.**

_HuoJin: I assure you, I wasn't. I said earlier that I like the way you look, and I meant it. I would consider it an honor to go on a date with you._

Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

**TechLord: If you're trying to hit on me, it's not working.**

_HuoJin: Yes, I'm afraid my usual charm is somewhat lost in translation this way. That's why it's imperative that we meet so that I may seduce you properly._

Jack chuckled to himself.

**TechLord: Well, I'll think about it and get back to you, but for the record, I kind of already like someone.**

_HuoJin: He's a lucky man._

This gave Jack pause.

**TechLord: And what would you know about that?**

_HuoJin: Come now, Jack, you haven't exactly been subtle about it these past six years. Your heart belongs to Chase Young and everyone knows it._

A very sobering chill swept through Jack at seeing those words on the screen.

_What?_

Jack's reply was typed on autopilot.

**TechLord: Seriously, how do you know that? Who are you?**

_HuoJin: I told you, Jack. I am Jùnjié—or at least, that was my birth name._

There was a pause of a few seconds while Jack forced his tired brain to think: _**where did he know that name?**_

Before he could come up with anything, another message popped up on the screen with an accompanying beep.

_HuoJin: You are tired and it is late. Do get some rest, Spicer. I'll see you on Wednesday._

And as quickly as that, the little green box beside the username, 'HuoJin' went gray, indicating that he had gone offline.

Of course, Jack wasn't able to pay it much attention for that parting statement and the way it was phrased had quite soundly jumpstarted his memory.

He _did_ know a Jùnjié. He had for years.

Before Jack's idol and long-time crush had accepted Hannibal Bean's offer, before he had taken that first sip of Lao Máng Lóng, and before he had even changed his name to Chase Young…

He had been a Xiaolin monk that went by the name of Jùnjié.

Flashes of the conversation he had just had whizzed through Jack's mind. The things he'd said to Chase, the things Chase had said to _him,_ and oh, god he _knew_—…

…and Chase wanted to go on a _date_ with him…

It was this thought that proved too much for Jack and he slumped into his computer chair in a dead faint.

At the very least, however, he was finally unconscious after his long and trying day.

**Twenty Four -**

Jack shuddered, resisting the _very_ powerful urge to take a step backwards. Of course, he thought, running away would be a great idea, too, no matter _how_ unlikely it was that he would get away with it.

_Very_ unlikely, cornered as he was by Hannibal Roy Bean.

"Now, Jack," he shivered at the slow, purposeful drawl, "I'm sure you're wonderin' just what it is you're here for."

That was an understatement. Dragged from his home and brought before quite possibly the most evil being in the universe?

Jack had _questions_ and he had a feeling that none of their answers would bode well.

"Uh…yeah," he said out loud, "y-you could say that…"

Hannibal grinned at him with crooked yellow teeth. "What's wrong, boy? You ain't _scared_…are you?"

"Me?" Jack gave a quivering laugh. "No, no way, I'm n—" He broke off with a short screech when Hannibal abruptly went from bean-sized to man-sized with the aid of the Moby Morpher. Weakly, he amended, "O-okay, maybe a little…"

"Well, there's no need for that." A viney root curled around Jack's shoulders. "Y'see, all I want is to talk."

Jack tensed. "Talk," he echoed warily. "About what?"

"Why, _you,_ of course!" Hannibal's root squeezed warmly, in what felt like a parody of camaraderie. "Did you think I wouldn't have noticed? You've improved _greatly_ in the ways of evil, my boy."

Jack's eyebrows shot up towards his goggles. "I _have_?"

The anthropomorphic legume laughed. "You have, Jack," he assured, "you have. Your skill in robotics alone has grown by leaps and bounds."

Jack responded with a nervous chuckle of his own. "Well, y'know…I try…"

"And you do so _well_ at it," Bean smiled at him. It was not a nice smile. "You've won yourself a dozen Showdowns in the past month alone _and_ you've managed to keep the Wu you won. _Very_ impressive, Jack."

"Um…thanks. I was bound to catch on to this stuff eventually, right?"

"Of course, you were," said Hannibal. "You've always had so _much_ potential, Jack. Now that you've finally tapped into it…hasn't it occurred to you that you could do with someone to help you use it…?"

Jack froze. "Wh…what?"

Bean was directly before him now, with a root on each of his shoulders and grinning broadly. "I'll cut right to the chase, Spicer: I want you to join me."

Jack stared at him. "Join you? Like…like an—"

"Apprentice," Bean finished for him. "You _are_ good, Jack, but I could teach you to be _so_ much better. Could you even imagine the kind of power you could have?"

Jack could imagine it. Hannibal Bean was just shy of omnipotent. He was a strong fighter, a skilled sorcerer, a _master_ of evil… Jack could learn much from him and the end result was all but guaranteed. Bean's last student had been _Chase Young,_ and if Jack could reach even _half _of that level of awesomeness—…

No. _Wait._

Chase _hated_ Bean. He had hated (or maybe even feared) him enough to betray him and trap him in the Ying-Yang World. That alone was enough of a reminder for Jack that Hannibal Bean was one seriously bad dude and it did not do to tangle with him.

He _always _wanted something in return for his services and the price was usually far beyond what one was willing and able to give.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "What's the catch?" he demanded.

Bean laughed. "_Very_ clever of you, my boy," he praised. "Of course, before I can truly take you on, you'll have to do somethin' for me."

"Like what?"

"No need to be hostile, Jack," Hannibal said, raising his roots in a gesture of harmlessness. "It's a very simple task I want you to do. Just a little somethin' to prove your worth…a show of good faith, if you will."

Jack frowned. "What is it?"

"I want you to dispose of Chase Young."

Jack went very still. "…dispose…?"

"You see, Jack," Bean continued, "Young has been a thorn in my side for far too long. An ungrateful brat, too, if you ask me. I gave him everything, you know. He was my favorite—if my only—student and he took advantage of my generosity. But out with the old, in with the new, eh?"

Slowly, Jack shook his head. "I…can't kill Chase. There's no way."

"Sure you can," Bean smiled. "Of course, I'll give you the power to do it. He's too strong for you right now and until I teach you, you don't have the skill to beat him. I'll enhance you beyond his level—temporarily, you understand, in case you're starting to get funny ideas. Once Chase is out of the way, I'd be more than happy to take you under my wing."

"No," Jack said. "I can't kill Chase. I…I won't."

Hannibal retained his upbeat demeanor despite the refusal. "Why not? It would be well within your ability and it would be such poetic justice, don't you think? Chase Young, brought down by the very admirer he had so many times scorned…" He grinned. "It would be right _perfect._"

"No, that's just it. I _can't _hurt Chase," Jack protested. "I…I really…"

"Love him?"

Jack inhaled sharply.

"There's nothing wrong with lovin' someone, Jack," Bean said comfortingly. "I know you can't help how you feel."

"R…really?"

"Of course. You're sweet on him…" Hannibal's tone turned suddenly cold. "But he ain't sweet on _you._"

Jack flinched, but Bean was not finished.

"Come on, Spicer," he said, "I've seen what you can do with that brain of yours. You're _smarter_ than this. You ought to know by now that no matter how in love you are, that stubborn dragon doesn't love you back. I'm offering you a chance for revenge: _show_ him how wrong he was to treat you the way he has!"

"No," Jack said again, "no, I…I don't want to. I want—"

"I _know_ what you want, Spicer."

Jack jumped, for that had most _definitely_ been said in Chase's voice. Looking up, he found himself face-to-face with his idol.

His brain helpfully reminded him that Bean held the Moby Morpher and Jack realized quickly that this was only Hannibal imitating Chase's form.

Knowing this made it no less startling when 'Chase' reached out and cupped his face with two large, warm hands. Jack _shivered_ at the contact.

"You want me, Spicer," 'Chase' purred to him. "You want this body so badly, you're already half-hard for it."

A dark flush colored Jack's cheeks when he realized it was true. He tried to remind himself again that this was _not_ Chase, but was only able to force down a little of the instinctive arousal he was feeling at such an intimate proximity.

"You're not him," he said aloud. Even so, he couldn't keep the quiver out of his voice.

"Of course I'm not," 'Chase' readily agreed. One of his hands slipped down and around, making Jack meep embarrassingly when his rear was squeezed. "But I'd be more than happy to play pretend with you. I can do to you things you'd only _dreamed _of, Spicer…"

Jack whimpered.

'Chase' leaned in closer and Jack swallowed audibly at the heat in the golden stare pinning him down. A gloved hand grabbed Jack's and pulled it up to thread through long and silky hair.

"Let _me _love you, Jack," the 'warlord' entreated. "I will give you everything…and all you have to do is get rid of the Chase Young that won't."

It was those words that snapped Jack out of his stupor and he immediately shoved the false Chase off of him.

"No," he repeated firmly. "I _won't_ kill Chase for you, Bean! Find someone else to do your dirty work, 'cause it's not gonna be me!"

'Chase' _scowled_ at him. His form melted away and once more became that of Hannibal Bean, but larger than before. By the time he finally stopped growing, he was at least twice as tall as Jack.

"I _really _think you ought to reconsider, Jack," he said, menace in his tone.

Looking up at him, Jack blanched. Throat tight with fear, he had nothing to say and his body tensed in preparation to flee with the blinding speed of a true coward.

He was not given the chance.

A hellish snarl tore through the air and in the blink of an eye, the oversized Bean was on the ground. On top of him, _murder_ in his eyes was Chase Young himself, the _real_ one, dragon-formed.

Teeth-bared and tail lashing behind him with obvious fury, Chase _growled._

"How dare you? How _dare _you, Bean?"

"How dare _I_?" A whip of one root and Chase was flung off of Hannibal across the room, leaving gouges in the floor with his claws as he regained his footing. "How dare _you,_Young? Spicer and I were in the middle of a private conversation. Isn't that right, Jack?"

Jack, of course, had no opportunity to react to those particular honeyed words, for Chase was already launching himself at Bean again.

"You will _not_ have him!" he all but roared. "Spicer is _**mine**_!"

Jack's jaw nearly dropped, but now was obviously not the time for any sort of verbal freaking out, not with Chase's claws tearing into Bean and Bean's root coiling around Chase' neck.

Struck by the feeling that he needed to be doing something (and for once, it _wasn't _running), Jack slowly reached into his coat, careful not to draw the attention of the hellbeasts currently brawling in front of him. His fingers almost immediately brushed the cool metal of the laser pistol he had gotten in the habit of carrying with him at all times.

Jack knew he was a sharp enough shooter to defend himself from a distance, but he wasn't so sure about his offense. That aside, he didn't even know if the weapon in question would do any good against _Hannibal freaking Bean,_and Chase would probably be able to hold his own against him anyway.

But what Chase had _said_…and that he was fighting Bean at all right now…

Jack held out the pistol and took aim. Maybe he wouldn't be able to do damage, but if he could throw Hannibal off even a little, it could give Chase a _big_ advantage.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Bean had noticed him lining up his shot. A vine grew long enough to lash out and whip around his ankle. It tugged sharply, and with a startled, "Whoa!" Jack found himself on the floor.

Chase roared, tearing viciously into Bean once more. "Don't _touch _him!"

The vine retracted as Bean quickly grew busy with Chase again and Jack pushed himself up into a sitting position, hissing at the stab of pain it caused to his ankle.

_Well, fine,_ Jack thought to himself, _he wants it that way? I can aim just as good sitting._

He then proceeded to prove it by pulling the trigger of his pistol, firing off a laser beam that cleanly severed one of Hannibal's roots.

Bean screamed, more from anger than pain as his appendage fell to the floor and he quickly turned on Jack, looking downright furious. Jack's grip on his gun tightened as he prepared to defend himself.

As it turned out, he didn't have to, and Chase quickly took a purposeful stance before him.

This seemed to give Bean pause.

Already aching from the brief scuffle with his former student, he knew that pursuing further combat would be a waste of time. Chase was, in every way, his equal and in a one-on-one fight, there could not yet be a victor. Not to mention, of course, that Jack seemed quite keen to provide his idol with aid in whatever way he could and while that little toy gun wasn't much of a threat, it could certainly prove distracting.

If Bean continued the fight, there was the very real chance he might lose.

Slowly, he backed off and returned to a semi-normal size.

"Alright, Young," he said, sneering. "You want him so bad? Take him. I'll let you go this time, but make no mistake: I _will_ have him eventually."

"Over my dead body, _Bean,_" the dragon-Chase snapped.

Hannibal grinned. "That's entirely the idea. Now, go on, get! Both of you!"

Jack watched from the floor as Chase smoothly shifted back into his human form, still glaring fiercely at Bean. He never took his eyes off of his once master as he came to kneel by Jack's side.

"Can you stand, Spicer?" he asked calmly.

Jack blinked. "Uh…I doubt it. I think he twisted my ankle…"

Chase snorted. "He will pay for that at a later date," he solemnly promised.

Jack gave a soft 'meep' as Chase scooped him up in his arms. Without once turning his back on Bean, he called upon his magic and teleported away from the Heylin legume's stronghold right into the middle of his own.

There was a silence between them as Chase began carrying Jack deeper within the volcanic palace. Surprisingly enough, it was a weary-sounding Chase who broke it.

"So, the castle has been successfully stormed and the princess rescued by the dragon."

Jack frowned. "The princess is in another castle," he muttered. "I'm very much a _prince_, thank you."

Chase scoffed. "If you have any thoughts of calling me 'Mario,' you'll be _walking _on that ankle."

"Wasn't planning on it," said Jack. He glanced briefly at the hallway he was being carried through. "Um…where are you taking me?"

"Does it matter?" demanded Chase. "I won you. You are mine. I may do with you as I wish."

Jack's heart skipped a beat. "You…really meant that?" he asked hopefully. "You _do_ want me?"

Chase sighed. "Spicer, Bean was wrong in what he told you on every count but one."

"Which one?"

"I don't love you."

Jack's face fell. "…oh."

"But," Chase continued, "given time, it is a possibility."

Jack perked again.

"I, too, have seen your potential, Jack. You could be great with the proper training; with _focus._I can give you that."

"So, what's _your_ catch?"

Chase smirked. "I won't ask you to do murder for me," he said. "I would only ask your complete loyalty to me. Although," he amended, "after seeing your confrontation with Bean just now, I'm inclined to believe I already have it."

Jack blushed.

"I must say, Jack…I am impressed. You held your own against him."

"Not like I fought him or anything," Jack murmured sheepishly.

"I didn't expect you to," Chase retorted. "You didn't _need_ to fight him physically, Spicer. You fought Hannibal Bean in a battle of wills and you _won._Not many can boast of that."

"He wanted me to kill you!" Jack argued. "I wasn't gonna let him talk me into that!"

Chase grinned. "And that, Jack," he said, "is precisely why you belong to me."

Jack found he had nothing to say to that and simply laid his head against Chase's breastplate.

"I'll take that as your consent," the warlord firmly decided. "Now, if it's alright with you, I think it would be best if your ankle was looked at."

Jack smiled. "Sounds good to me."

**...**

**A/N: Still for Silvarbelle's birthday which was so long ago, it's embarrassing that I'm posting this now! XD**

**_Twenty One -_ You see amnesia used a _lot_ in fanfiction, and you even see it used in Chack plenty of times, but I've never actually seen amnesia applied to Chase. When I have, it's usually the type of amnesia that suddenly changes his entire personality instead of just wiping his memories and makes him weak and dependent, or worse, _gullible._ I wanted to try my hand at a more in-character amnesiac Chase, so hopefully, I did alright. :D**

**_Twenty Two -_Again, another thing you don't see too much is Jack getting flirted with. He's not uber-sexy like Chase, but the boy is cute! Give him a little credit, yeah? XD**

**_Twenty Three -_The obligatory IMing ficlet, of course. ;P**

**_Twenty Four -_I really, really like this one. I don't know why, maybe it's just the idea of Jack being able to successfully (more or less) tell off Hannibal Bean just because of how much he loves Chase, or if it's how Chase gets to defend Jack against a pissed off Bean, but I do like it. I hope you guys like it, too! :)**

**Ideally, there should only be one more part, but size limitations might make me split what's left into two. We'll see when I try to post them, but for now, this has been Part 4! :D**


	5. Twenty Five to Twenty Eight

**33 Ways (Jack Could've Hooked Up With Chase)**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, implications of sexual situations, etc.**

**...**

**Twenty Five -**

Jack was very much startled when Chase appeared at his home in a manner both unexpected and unusual.

Jack _still_ did not recall any other in his acquaintance these past few years (since meeting Wuya) who had actually bothered to use the front door and in fact, for a few moments, he hadn't even recognized the noise of the doorbell. It had left him wondering if it might not be a better idea to replace the chiming noise with the magical crackle of teleportation, or far more familiar, the sound of a wall being smashed in.

Not dwelling long on this, Jack quickly made it upstairs to answer the door only to find his most respected idol standing on the porch. Though naturally very surprised, he managed to invite the warlord in and went about making himself a gracious host.

"Uh…you can take a seat, if you'd like," Jack said with a gesture to the sofa in the parlor.

Chase shook his head. "No, thank you. I'll stand."

Jack feared for a moment at the disgruntled expression and demeanor of the dragonlord that he had somehow irritated Chase lately, but it was quickly dismissed. He had not seen Chase like this, in _person_ for years. He could _not _have offended him.

Jack tried again. "Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Like…coffee or tea…er, water, maybe?"

Again, Chase denied it. "I'm afraid I'm not here for pleasantries, Spicer," he said. "I am here on important business and cannot be bothered with something so trivial as refreshments."

"Oh. Oh, okay, I…sorry." Jack managed not to awkwardly scratch at his scalp, but only barely. "So…what _are _you here for?"

The frown Chase had been wearing since he walked through the door deepened minutely and Jack eventually eased onto the couch himself as the warlord paced in a particularly stately manner, looking as if he were gathering his thoughts.

They were apparently soon gathered and Jack waited patiently to hear what Chase had to say.

Chase, for his part, took a deep breath and stood directly before Jack, posture rigid and tall with his arms folded behind him at the small of his back.

"Spicer," he said at length, "I have attempted to deny it for quite some time, but my feelings on the matter completely refuse to be buried. It is for that reason I have come here today so as to inform you that I am very much infatuated with you and with time, could even love you."

And this, of course, was quite literally the _last_ thing Jack had ever expected to hear out of Chase's mouth, which was why it took him so long to verbalize a response and when he did, why it was nothing more than a very emphatic, "…_what?_"

Chase seemed to take that as an invitation to continue.

"Over the years," he said, "I have found your unique talent with machinery and robotics to be interesting and it has been very impressive to see your creations improve and grow ever more complex with time. I have also found a matter of attraction in your appearance and demeanor. Even among albinos, I have yet to see any so strikingly colored as yourself and there is certainly something to be said for your persistence and determination in everything you attempt. It is an admirable trait to possess and I do see it as such."

Jack shook his head. "I…you're kidding, right? This is a joke?"

"I assure you," Chase said firmly, "I am being completely serious."

"So, you're really here…in my house…telling me that you…_like_ me? Y'know, _that _way?"

Chase simply nodded.

"…You're fucking insane."

And that, too, was quite literally the last thing Chase had ever expected to hear out of Jack's mouth (directed at _him, _anyway), which explained why he was likewise only able to voice a single question through the shock.

Jack deigned to answer it immediately.

"You're fucking insane," he said again. "You must think _I'm_ fucking insane to believe a word of that! You're expecting me to believe what you just said when you haven't even seen me in _three years_?"

Chase scowled. "You believe the strength of my feelings to be dependent on proximity?"

"No, I don't," said Jack frankly, "because I don't believe them at all."

"How can you doubt me?" Chase coldly asked. "Have I not come here for the _sole _purpose of debasing myself to you?"

"Debasing yourself?" Jack echoed, getting to his feet. "_That's _a nice thing to say about someone you apparently out of nowhere like!"

Chase looked at him incredulously. "You expect me to welcome this revelation?" he demanded. "You expected me to be _happy_ that I'd fallen in love with you?"

"Oh, so now you're saying you did it against your will?"

"Very much so!" exclaimed Chase. "If my choice had anything to do with reason, it could not have been you."

Jack sneered at him. "If you're trying to sweep me off my feet with romance, Chase, you're going about it in literally the worst way possible."

"I'm not trying to romance you, Spicer," the warlord said plainly. "I _came_ here to confess to you and yet, I have received nothing from you but scorn—apparently just for the _fact_ of my feelings!"

"And, what," Jack asked sharply, "did you expect _me_ to be happy about this?"

"Yes!" Chase said, sounding exasperated. "Was I meant to think any differently given the way you've acted around me? Towards me?"

Jack flushed, from either indignation, embarrassment, or both. "That was years ago," he declared. "What makes you so damn sure of yourself that even if I _did_ feel that way, I still would now?"

"Because love does not behave in a manner as fickle as you do."

"What?" Jack sputtered. "I'm _not_ in l-love with you anymore! No, I mean, I wasn't _then,_ either, I just—! I _don't,_ okay, you bastard?"

Jack inhaled sharply when Chase caught him by the shoulders. He had the brief thought of soon being subject to a great deal of physical harm before the dragonlord's hands only pushed down, forcing him back onto the sofa.

"Stop, Jack," he ordered. "Just…stop for a moment. I came here to _speak_ with you, and I don't foresee that happening if we're both arguing instead."

Jack frowned, displeased, but he did acknowledge that Chase was making some kind of effort with this.

"Fine," he agreed, still a mite snappish, but clearly resigned to a more peaceful talk. "I'll hear you out if you're not going to insult me again."

"I may still insult you," Chase said honestly, "but not intentionally."

Jack rolled his eyes. "I guess that's the best I'm going to get. Go."

Chase did. "Spicer… Of course I wasn't happy when I first realized that you were…interesting to me. You must realize your reputation."

Jack had the feeling he was about to be insulted again. "What reputation?"

Chase sighed. "I'll attempt to put it as delicately as possible." But with Chase's blunt nature thusfar, Jack had a feeling that meant nothing. "You are very unskilled in combat. You have no magical talents whatsoever. Your only true strength has been your robots, and even they have a tendency to fall apart exceedingly easily in battle."

"So, you're saying I'm a loser."

"I'm saying you're _unskilled,_" corrected Chase. "There is a difference."

"Whatever. What does that matter?" Jack demanded to know.

"You should know what _my _reputation is," Chase said. "From a wealthy family as you are, I can't imagine you don't know the…stigma, for lack of a better word, associated with going beneath one's own class. For a very long time, I will admit that the idea of wanting to be involved with you in such a way was disconcerting to me. An alliance with you of that sort could be of no real gain to me and among other Heylin, I might very well lose face simply being seen with you."

Jack snorted. "If I'm so _beneath_ you, why even bother with this at all?"

"I told you already, Jack. I am here because I have thoroughly considered all of the reasons that make what I am doing a logically stupid decision and none of them matter to me."

And because _that_ did not sound quite so insulting as the rest of it, Jack stared warily at the overlord. "What do you mean?"

Chase rolled his eyes. "I _mean,_ Spicer," he explained, "that I know you have no truly great skills to offer me and that you cannot possibly aid my reputation in the slightest and I don't care. Your current situation does not change the way I feel. I want you anyway."

"…if that's true," Jack asked with a frown, "why are you being such a jerk about this?"

Chase smirked. "I'm afraid 'jerk' is my natural setting, Jack. You'll have to get used to that. As for my frank manner, I had assumed you would appreciate my honesty in this more than pretty, flattering words. I _could_ still tell you that I think you perfect in every way possible and have never thought differently. Would you like that better?"

"No," Jack said sourly. "You don't have to patronize me." After a moment, he sighed. "I always thought this would go way different."

"Oh?"

Jack abruptly realized he had said that out loud and winced. "Not that I thought about it!" he hastily corrected himself. "I mean, if I _were_ to consider it…You know, how you might…_if_ you were to…"

Chase quickly put a stop to his rambling. "And what did you imagine when you thought about it?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "You're just so…sexy," he all but murmured that particular word, "and evil… I thought if you ever did this, it would go more like…you showing up out of nowhere like usual and just…pouncing me or something. And then, _maybe _feelings later if there were any. This whole…declaration thing seems kinda scripted."

Chase had the decency, even as a lord of evil, to appear mildly embarrassed by such a comment. "I have had three years at the least to think about how I would do this, Spicer," he reluctantly confessed. "To some degree, it was scripted."

Jack couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, Chase, you speak very elegantly when you're trying to do a formal courtship or…whatever this is, but to be honest, it also sounds fake and makes you seem like even more of a jerk than usual."

"That was not my intention," Chase said quietly, as close as a warlord could get to awkwardness. "I'm sure you'd believe that I haven't actually _courted_ someone in many years. Looking the way I look, I haven't _needed _to in a very long time."

"So, why start now?" Jack wondered. "You sure as hell could've seduced me with your looks."

"I tend to use seduction on those that I want in my bed and nothing more," Chase replied. "By actually going to the trouble of some kind of courtship first, I had hoped to clue you in that I wanted more than just your body and had an interest in _you_ as a person."

"Well, you should've just told me that, 'cause you suck at courtship."

Chase sighed. "Apparently I do."

"Don't worry about it," said Jack. "You can…" He seemed to deliberate on his words for a moment. "You can practice on me."

"Practice…courtship?" Chase blinked.

Slowly, Jack nodded. "Yeah. I mean…you said you wanted me, right?" Chase nodded. "Well…maybe I _do _still want you…and maybe I wouldn't mind so much if you wanted to work on that whole romance problem…"

Chase joined Jack on the sofa. "If this attempt is anything to go by," he said airily, "I _am _in dire need of practice in that area. Where would you recommend I start?"

Pretending to think it over, Jack soon answered him. "Less thought and more impulse," he suggested. "If you're really trying to charm the pants off me, it would be a good start to actually get the pants off."

Chase laughed and gently shoved the goth, knocking him onto his back on the couch while he loomed over him. "More passion and less talking. That's what you'd prefer?"

Jack grinned up at him. "If half the chick flicks I've watched are even remotely accurate, the talking about feelings and stuff is _supposed_ to come during the afterglow."

Chase returned the grin, dipping down for a kiss. "Well, I think I can manage that much…"

**Twenty Six -**

Diol listened to the retreating footsteps echoing within the grandiose palace, flinching only slightly at the likewise reverberant slam of the door due to the sensitivity of his ears.

At that sense of finality, he turned to his master, wondering how this particular meeting had affected him.

To anyone else, Chase Young would not appear affected at all. His easy posture as he sat in his throne suggested an air of casualness, the hand upon which he rested his chin boredom, and at worst, the slight frown he wore might be taken as the barest hint of irritation.

Of course, the jaguar, in his experience with his master had learned very well the forced affectation of indifference and from past meetings of this kind, Diol knew with certainty that Chase was doing his damnedest to quell a thrill of primal panic trying to rise in his breast.

_"Are you well, master?" _he asked mildly.

Chase sighed. "As well as can be expected. You know what _his_ visits do to me."

_"I do know, master,"_ Diol agreed. _"Your willpower is truly admirable."_

Chase responded to his minion's compliment with a chuckle. "Diol," he declared, shaking his head, "you would not say that if you knew the kind of base, dragonish thoughts running through my head right now."

The cat prowled closer, within his master's reach. He was gratified by a hand stroking over his sleek, black fur. _"Wouldn't I?" _he asked.

Diol felt the scratch of nails just beneath his ear. It was a pleasant sensation, but that he could feel Chase's nails _through_ his glove suggested that they were less nails by now and closer to claws.

Yet more evidence that the mere arrival and departure of Jack Spicer had a great weakening influence over the warlord's self-control.

"That reptilian part of me is currently reminding me that I may still catch him," Chase said. "He always lingers in leaving here and I can be quite fast when the occasion calls for it."

_"And what would it have you do then?"_ Diol respectfully inquired.

"Disgusting and shameful things," Chase answered. "I would satisfy every carnal urge I could possibly have on him until, or well past the point where he would lose consciousness."

_"And it is your willpower that prevents you from actually doing it, master," _the jaguar pointed out.

"I suppose," Chase reluctantly agreed. "Were it up to that bestial part of me alone, I would keep him stripped and chained to my bed for all eternity as a sex slave."

_"It would have to be a long chain,"_ Diol chimed in. _"He would eventually need to use the bathroom."_

Chase waved off the concern. "Certainly, a long chain, around one ankle only so that he could move somewhat freely. The bedroom door would be locked at all times, anyway, and he would have access to nothing with which he could pick the lock. _That_ would certainly please my instincts."

_"But not him."_

"No, of course not him," Chase easily concurred. "His attention span is too short to survive such a confinement. He would metaphorically wither and die within days unless he is able to seek near-constant stimulation." After a moment's pause, he also added, "He finds such passion in flying, too. It would make him miserable to be deprived of it."

_"And you don't want him miserable,"_ Diol replied.

"That lizard part of me could care less whether or not he is miserable," said Chase. "It only cares to possess Spicer completely in all things. You wouldn't believe the knee-jerk panic I feel whenever I see him leave completely unfettered. He carries no scent, no mark, not even the slightest of verbal ties to anyone, much less to _me._ That a creature such as him should be out in the world as _free game_…I admit, it galls me."

_"Well, that, master, is perfectly natural,"_ Diol said. _"Nearly all animals feel some imperative to mark their territory, humans included."_

"And that imperative is getting harder and harder to resist." Chase left off stroking his feline beast, rubbing his palm over his face. "I really don't know how much longer I can keep myself at bay."

Diol stretched briefly before lying down at his master's feet. _"You don't have to for **much** longer,"_ he reminded. _"You said before that Jack was nearly ready to be taken, and when he is, you may do so on your own terms."_

"Yes, I know." Chase placed his sandaled feet upon the jaguar's back, using him as a foot rest. Diol did not so much as stir. "I wish I could _tell_ him, though."

Now, Diol lifted his head. _"Tell him, master?"_

"I wish I could tell him _why_ this waiting was necessary," Chase elaborated. "I wish I could tell him how long I have wanted him to be mine, even though he was too young and inexperienced to have me. I wish I could explain to him that he needed to grow up and gain a will of his own so that he would not be made miserable by following mine alone."

_"You want him to be yours, but not if he wouldn't be happy,"_ Diol inferred. _"A much more human sentiment, but you have nothing to worry about there, I'm sure. Spicer is more miserable without you than he could ever be with you."_

Chase snorted. "A very saccharine notion, Diol."

_"For a very saccharine boy."_

"…Touché."

_"As for telling him,"_ the jaguar continued, _"I wouldn't get worked up over it. He will know your reasoning soon enough. Knowing how excitable he is, I wouldn't be surprised if he never asked a single question about why you kept him at arm's length."_

"That does sound very like him," Chase agreed. "If he doesn't ask, I'll tell him anyway."

_"When the time comes."_

"Yes," Chase said slowly, finally hearing the distant whir of an activating helipack and forcing down the familiar _wantneedtakekeep**MINE**_ for what he was certain would be the last time. "When the time comes…"

**Twenty Seven -**

Chase looked up as the familiar figure of Jack Spicer came to stand before him.

"Spicer," he greeted coolly. "You're right on time."

Jack grinned broadly, plopping himself into the seat across from the overlord with more than his usual amount of arrogance. "Like I'd be late to a meeting _I_ arranged?" he asked rhetorically. "Never. That'd just be _rude._"

"And so very like you to keep me waiting," Chase shot back.

Surprisingly enough, Jack appeared completely unaffected by the jab and instead of the shamefaced flinch Chase had expected of his cowardly fanboy, the goth remained downright cheerful.

"Nah," he easily shrugged off, "I'd _never _keep someone as dead sexy as you waiting."

The statement was unexpected and Chase could only blink upon realizing that Jack was now very obviously ogling him.

"God_damn,_" Jack said, "you have _nice_ legs. You should wear jeans more often."

Chase frowned deeply, crossing one leg over the other beneath the sidewalk café's table and clearing his throat. "Need I remind you that my eyes are up here, Spicer?"

Red eyes continued to look him up and down for a few more seconds, lingering here and there where Chase knew the modern clothing would best highlight his body.

"I know where they are," Jack brazenly declared at length. "They're gorgeous, too, but I get to see those _all_ the time. Seeing the rest of you dressed like this is a special occasion."

Chase snorted. "Well, then, I suppose I no longer have to ask why you wanted to meet in a _public_ place."

"Mmhmm," Jack agreed. "You wouldn't get up and walk around a little for me, would you? With legs like those, I bet you've got the ass to go with it."

Sneering, Chase made to stand. "If the whole purpose of this was for you to objectify me and make lewd comments, I won't be staying."

Jack caught his wrist before he could leave. "Aw, come on, Chase," he all but crooned, wearing an apologetic smile, "you don't have to leave. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to insult you."

Chase narrowed his eyes, closely inspecting Jack. It struck him quite suddenly that the grip on his wrist was a strong one, entirely incongruent with Spicer's usual light touches.

By simply the feel of that iron grip, Chase knew that _something_ was wrong. Sensing that (as well as the fact that Jack's apology seemed sincere), he slowly retook his seat.

"If you can behave yourself," he declared, "I will hear you out."

Jack smiled at him. "I think I can manage that. Y'see, I've got some…confidential information at my disposal. Not counting my legion of doom," which Chase took to mean the Jackbots, "you're the first one I'm actually telling it to."

"Do you expect me to be flattered?" Chase asked at the expectant look.

Jack shrugged. "I figured you might be a little, but don't fake it on my account."

"I won't." Ever the warlord with a head for business, Chase remembered easily why he had decided to entertain this meeting in the first place and spoke. "In truth, Spicer, there is something _I_ wished to address, as well."

"I'd bet anything it's the same thing I want to talk about," said Jack. "Ask me, anyway."

Chase did so. "I've been hearing...some wild accusations in regards to you, Spicer."

Jack smirked at him. "Rumors of my death—"

"If you say 'greatly exaggerated,'" Chase warned with a scowl.

Jack outright laughed at that. "Funny," he chuckled, "but no. They're all completely true."

Chase stared at him. "…What?"

"Yup," Jack brightly proclaimed, "dead as a doornail! Funeral's this Friday, too. Who the hell plans a funeral for a Friday? Seriously, say goodbye to weekend plans! What the crap is with that?"

Chase shook his head for a moment. "I'm…sorry," he said eventually, "I thought I just heard you confirm the fact that you were _dead._"

"You did," Jack said. "It happened about a week ago. Real peaceful, in my sleep and all that. Didn't feel a thing."

Something that Chase refused to acknowledge as apprehension began to chill his very heart. Spicer _couldn't_ be dead. That was impossible. _No,_ he _wasn't,_ not when Chase had so many _plans_ for the boy, so much left to _do_…!

Before the dragonlord could truly work himself up in any way, of course, logic kicked in and he calmed visibly.

"You aren't dead, Spicer," he said coldly. "I am speaking with you now. I am doing so in front of many other people who have yet to give me any strange looks for 'talking to myself.' Moreover, all of my senses acknowledge you clearly, so you may stop trying to convince me that you're an apparition."

Again, Jack laughed. "Did I ever say I was?" he asked. "Of course I'm not a ghost. I _am_ physically here, after all, but I'm not lying. My real body died a week ago."

Chase stilled. "What do you mean, 'real body'?" he demanded.

Jack grinned at him. "If I just told you, you wouldn't believe me. I'm gonna have to show you."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Chase asked warily.

Jack glanced around briefly, looking at the people enjoying meals and conversation around them. Finding them sufficiently distracted, he returned his attention to Chase.

"Not that I think you'd make a scene," he said, "but be subtle."

Chase blinked as the butter knife on the table was slipped into his hand, eyes widening when Jack pulled back his sleeve and held out his arm.

"Stab me," he entreated, still with that unfaltering grin on his face.

"Stab you," Chase echoed, hardly believing the request.

Jack, however, still refused to waver. "Sure," he encouraged, "go for it."

"Are you serious?"

"I _know_ you can do it," Jack said. "It's not the sharpest knife, but you're strong enough. Go ahead, drive it all the way through."

"If I were to do that, the muscles of your arm might be damaged beyond repair," Chase replied. "And far from _me _making a scene, the pain would probably have someone like you screaming and crying for days."

"No, that's the best part!" Jack exclaimed. "It won't even hurt if I know it's coming."

Chase saw absolutely nothing but eager impatience in Spicer's eyes. There was no fear or hesitation whatsoever.

Again, Chase was struck by the feeling of something _off._

Nonetheless…

Jack didn't so much as flinch when Chase's hand firmly grasped his own, the other raising the knife just high enough to do the job.

"You will _not_ whine about this to me later," Chase said, right before forcing the butter knife through unmarred, white flesh.

Surprisingly true to his word, Jack did not cry out in pain. He didn't wince, hiss, or whimper in any kind of agony and if Chase didn't know any better, he'd have _sworn_ Jack hadn't even felt it.

Briefly, he eyed the wound, but sure enough, the knife had gone all the way through, right between the radius and ulna. There didn't seem to be anything unusual about how the arm had been skewered which might've spared the pain.

It was only when Jack took his arm back and began sliding the knife cleanly back out that Chase realized the wound was not bleeding.

"What…?" was all he had time to breathe before Jack's fingers were digging into the sliced flesh of his forearm, peeling it back as if it were no more than rubber.

That may very well have been the case. What greeted Chase's eyes from beneath Jack's skin was not the red and messy gore found within organic beings. There was only the glint of metal and the twine of wires.

"See?" said Jack, still smiling proudly. "If I know something's coming, now, I can just turn off my pain receptors."

Chase could only watch as Jack's hand moved away and his torn skin…_whatever_ material it was knit itself back together within a few seconds.

"The great thing about this is," Jack continued, "I can repair myself instantly. No more stitching myself back up after Showdowns!"

"You're…a machine?" Chase managed to ask.

"Yeah," Jack smirked. "I built me myself! You like it?"

Chase shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "Why?" he demanded. "_How_?"

"The how's easy," said Jack. "Robots are my _thing_ and I've made human-shaped bots before. It's not like it was anything really _new. _Basically, I just did the same thing I did when I built RoboJack, except with a lot more features to make the body transition easier. Y'know, a comprehensive sense of touch, user-friendly memory banks, and an anatomically correct downstairs set-up, if you catch my drift."

Chase chose to ignore the very flirty wink Jack chose to accompany that sentence with. "Then _why_?"

"You have to ask?" Jack scoffed. "I was _tired_ of my body. Before this, I was clumsy and weak and no matter what I did, I couldn't get any stronger. Now, I can be as strong as I can build myself to be. I can learn all the martial arts you and the monks know in a couple of hours, Matrix style. I'm _indestructible,_ Chase!"

It was now that Chase recognized the source of Jack's earlier arrogance and brazen behavior for what it was. He had been the very same way when he'd first gained eternal youth and near-limitless might: mad with power, excited and overwhelmed by the new world of _possibilities,_ and knowing his complete superiority to everyone who was not immortal.

It was with the wisdom of age and experience that Chase then spoke. "And at what cost have you bought your invulnerability?"

"Just physical money," said Jack, "for the materials to build this new body. It's mostly titanium; the skeleton is, anyway. I don't usually spring for expensive metals like that, but the stuff I build my Jackbots out of is too brittle. I want lightweight _and_ durable if I'm gonna be living in it and if I can't spoil myself, who will?"

"You're missing the point," Chase frowned. "Did you not think of what you were giving up at all?"

"Of course I did. I went all out on this, Chase," Jack explained. "I've seen enough sci-fi movies to know all the big complaints about moving into a robot body and I accounted for all of them. I can eat and drink and taste and sleep…I can even have sex if I want, I know it all works. The only times I've even noticed that I'm not organic anymore were ones that made me even _gladder_ that I made the switch."

"And what of your loved ones?" Chase persisted. "I know all too well the pain of seeing those that you come to care for grow old and die while you remain unchangingly young. Did that even cross your mind?"

"My parents were going to die before me anyway," Jack said frankly. "It's a fact of life. As for 'loved ones,' it's more like 'loved _one_' and I can't think of a single scenario in which he's gonna get old and die."

Chase scowled. "You did this to yourself for _me_?"

"Surprisingly enough, no." Jack put his elbows on the table, propping his chin up with one hand. "I did it for me. _I_ wanted it, so I took it. Of all people, _you_ should understand that, Chase."

Chase did understand that sort of desire and Jack's initiative in reaching for what he wanted was worthy of respect.

Even so…

"Then, what about me, Spicer?" he asked blankly. "Did you think of me at all when you made this decision?"

And finally, this was a question that Jack did not seem prepared for. "You…huh?"

"Did it not occur to you that I had my own plans for you?" Chase prodded. "That I might one day want to accept a _human _Jack Spicer into my home and my bed?"

The words clearly shocked Jack, but he recovered quickly, frowning deeply at the overlord.

"Of course that didn't occur to me!" he snapped. "Where the hell would I have come up with something like that? You never said anything!"

Acutely aware of the eyes Jack's volume was beginning to draw to their table, Chase gave him a stern look. "This is neither the time nor the place, Jack. Mind your tone."

Jack snorted. "Fuck your tone," he growled, but he was quieter in doing so and the starers quickly lost interest.

Chase soon spoke again. "You are correct," he allowed. "I didn't give you any reason to believe I was interested in you. That is my failing, but to be fair, I could not have known your intentions to do…_this _to yourself."

Jack winced. "Does it…really bother you that much?" he asked hesitantly. "That I'm like this now?"

"I had wanted to take a _person_ to bed with me," Chase said honestly, "not a machine."

"I'm still a person," Jack argued. "I'm still _me,_ Chase, it's just a different body…"

"A body made of wires and metal."

"Do I look like I'm just wires and metal to you?" Jack demanded. "Before I told you, you couldn't even tell the difference!"

Chase was surprised to again have his hand caught and brought against one of Jack's.

"Touch me," Jack said. "Tell me I don't feel real."

Ungloved as it was, Chase's hand was already feeling Jack's skin…whatever material _passed_ for Jack's skin, he tried to remind himself, but oddly enough, it was difficult to do so.

By some means, Jack's hand was warm. Not in the way of overheated machinery, but in a natural, mammalian way. The warm skin was soft, too, and so incredibly detailed. No crease or line typical of the palm and knuckles was out of place and a closer look even revealed so intricate a feature as a dusting of hair on the knuckles.

Jack's hand squeezed his abruptly and every bend of finger and twist of 'bone' beneath the surface appeared perfectly natural—it was only when Chase reminded himself that this hand, and the one attached to it were artificial that his mind boggled.

"Your body is…very realistic," Chase eventually conceded, taking his hand back. "It doesn't change the fact that this is a very radical transition."

Jack appeared at a loss for what to say next, so Chase continued.

"Are you happy?"

Startled, Jack blurted out, "What?"

"You said you changed your body for your own happiness," Chase clarified. "Have you achieved it?"

"I…I don't know," Jack weakly admitted. "I thought I was. I don't feel too happy right now."

"Because you changed yourself for me and I don't want you?"

Jack flinched at the latter part, but shook his head. "Because something I wanted to do made you not want me anymore—and I didn't even know you wanted me in the first place."

"I haven't stopped wanting you."

Jack looked up. "You…you haven't?" he asked hopefully.

Chase, too, shook his head. "If you truly did this with your own interests in mind, I am in no position to criticize you for it. I felt the very same dissatisfaction with my own weaknesses and inabilities several centuries ago, when I sold my soul and became a monster." He eyed Jack for a moment. "Of course, compared to your method, it seems I sacrificed quite a bit more than necessary."

Jack managed half of a grin. "I wanted power on _my _terms," he admitted. "Not some bean's."

Chase frowned at him. "Intelligent of you," he said. "It's truly annoying to think of you as being smarter than I was."

"Hey," Jack retorted, now with a full grin, "my brain's _literally _a supercomputer. You don't get to say I'm dumb anymore."

"Supercomputer or no, it is still _your_ mind inhabiting it, Spicer," Chase smirked back. "You are more than capable of idiocy."

Jack laughed. "Alright," he admitted, "you've got me there. But you just admitted I'm still me, even if I'm a robot."

"Your mannerisms and your awful sense of humor are unmistakable," said Chase. "I do acknowledge that it's _you_ inside that body."

"And the body?"

"Yours," Chase said with a nod. "How well it works remains to be seen, though."

"How so?" asked Jack.

"For the moment, I can accept that form as your own being as it pleases you and has yet to displease me."

Jack stared. "And how could it displease you?"

"By failing to live up to its purpose in imitating a human form." Chase made sure to look Jack in the eye as he elaborated, "I sought to take you as a lover, Spicer. I do not want a lover who cannot eat meals with me and cannot share my bed without plugging himself into the wall at night to recharge."

Jack gave a short laugh. "I built this body so that it can get energy from multiple sources. Breathing, eating, and drinking are all viable methods of 'recharging.' As for the bed thing, I do have a port worth plugging, but the wall's only involved if you want it to be."

Chase snorted. "You claimed yourself to be anatomically correct," he said. "I will be sure to test that claim thoroughly later."

"Later?" Jack frowned in confusion. "Why later?"

"Because we are at a café, Jack," Chase said matter-of-factly. "I've heard they serve food at such places and for the tests I intend to subject that body of yours to, you shall need your energy."

Jack glanced around, preparing to flag down a wandering waiter. The devious expression on his face did not go unnoticed by Chase.

"For the record, my human body probably wouldn't have been able to handle all of _your_ strength without serious damage," he said.

Seeing a young lady approaching the table with menus, Chase asked his companion one last question. "And this one?"

"I already told you about the titanium skeleton, but I forgot to mention the extra-elastic joints and the shock-absorbent knees and elbows. Oh," Jack casually added, "and I don't really get dehydrated or exhausted anymore, so I could probably go for hours. How's that for superhuman stamina, dragon-man?"

"Very, _very_ interesting."

The waitress finally made it to the table and carried on her job as usual, entirely unaware of the strange conversation that had just taken place between her two latest customers.

**Twenty Eight -**

Not bothering with his usual complete silence, Chase's every step and with it, the 'tp' of sandal meeting stone floor was audible within the large, acoustic space. The echo was accompanied only by minor background noises, like the whir of various robots, the hum of idle machinery, and audible to Chase's ears only, the faint sound of breathing.

The almost total darkness did not bother one such as the dragonlord, who had perfect night vision, but he nonetheless gave the order.

"Lights."

In immediate obedience, the lights flickered on with the buzz typical of fluorescent bulbs. It was admittedly strange to Chase to be able to enter a domain not his own and already have complete control of its subjects—pleasantly strange, but strange nonetheless.

He made a mental note to thank Spicer at some point for programming his robotic minions to respect his authority as they would their master's. It made these visits far easier than if he were forced to sneak around.

Before him, the main light in the center of the lab came on, lagging behind the rest probably due to its size. It illuminated the main work table, naturally, and even after so many days as he had beheld it, Chase still wanted to laugh at the scene it made.

The soft light streamed down almost as if from heaven, shining a halo upon the cold metal slab where one might expect to find some beautiful, virginal maiden cruelly enchanted.

That Jack Spicer currently laid there instead, in all his crude, gothic glory was truly amusing.

Without hesitation, he approached the table, unsurprised as a robot came zooming up to greet him.

JB-13, Chase had come to know, was something of a senior officer in its master's army and had survived as many battles in its original body as the others had their consciousnesses transferred to. In short, it was very skilled as a robot—if not in doing damage to enemies, at least in avoiding being damaged—and such a thing had appointed it to a second-in-command sort of role and the duty of addressing visitors to the Evil Lair now fell to it.

"No change?" Chase asked it.

"No, sir," JB-13 answered promptly. "He hasn't moved."

Chase had not expected anything different. "Of course he hasn't," he said, sparing the quite unconscious form of his devoted fan a brief glance. "Spells such as this one do not simply wear off."

The earlier analogy of an enchanted maiden was yet more appropriate in light of the fact that Spicer was soundly spelled into an unnatural sleep and had been so for several days, now bordering on a week.

"Have you discovered a way to break it?" asked JB-13.

"I have looked into the spell and its origins," Chase replied. "It was created many centuries ago—before even my time. Its creator was a skilled monk searching for nonviolent means to subdue those who turned to the Heylin."

"By putting them to sleep?"

Chase nodded. "The principles of the spell are very fairy tale-esque. The only means of breaking such a sleep—"

"Let me guess," the machine interrupted. "True Love's Kiss?"

With a wry grin, Chase answered, "Something like that. The idea behind such a conditional, as I understand it, is that those who are Heylin love no one and so the truly evil will never be awakened."

JB-13 turned its body to face its master. "Aside from heart beat and breathing, all of his bodily functions have ceased. Is that part of the spell, too?"

"It is," confirmed the dragonlord. "His body is essentially frozen with magic. Time has stopped for him. Unless the spell is broken, he will remain as he is for all eternity, asleep, but unchanged."

"So, when do you plan on breaking it, sir?"

Chase blinked. "And what gave you the impression that _I_ would break it?"

JB-13, if it had a more manipulatable face, would surely be scowling. "Because _you _are the reason he was hexed in the first place."

Now, Chase rolled his eyes. "I was fully capable of dodging the spell. Your master's current situation is his own fault for thinking I might possibly need defending."

"I apologize, sir. I must have been malfunctioning: for a few nanoseconds, I was operating under the impression that you retained the slightest shred of moral decency despite your status as Heylin. My mistake."

"Cheeky!" Chase frowned at the machine. "Would Spicer approve of you speaking to me in such a way?"

"Perhaps not," JB-13 conceded, "but in all but the physical sense, Master Jack is not here."

In spite of himself, Chase snorted. "Fair enough, but you still assume it is within my _power_ to break the spell."

"Isn't it?"

"It may or may not be," Chase said vaguely. "The conditions of the kiss, as well as what constitutes 'love' in this case are murky. If they are not met properly by the current situation, the spell will not break. Due to the age and strength of the spell, dissipating it by any other means _is _outside my ability."

"We are researching other viable methods outside of magic," JB-13 said. "If there is another way to wake him up, we'll find it. In the meantime, there doesn't seem to be any harm in trying the kiss."

Chase watched the Jackbot begin hovering away. "You assume Spicer's consciousness is of any bearing to me?" he demanded.

JB-13 didn't even pause. "If you really didn't care one way or the other, you wouldn't have come here every other day since the incident or bothered to work so closely with us 'robotic distractions' on Master Jack's condition, sir."

Chase sneered as the machine disappeared into the relative shadow and gloom of the laboratory. It was vexing that his behavior was obvious enough that a mere robot should pick up on the fact that he had a vested interest in Spicer. Never mind the fact that JB-13 still had no idea _what_ that interest entailed, it was irritating to be even _this _transparent!

With a sigh, Chase resolved to put it out of his mind and very casually sat himself upon the edge of the work table, crossing one leg over the other. He looked down at Jack's passive expression with his own face blank of emotion.

"Well," he said coolly. "What to do with you, now, Spicer?"

Of course, Jack made no answer and Chase continued.

"You," he declared, "are still very much clumsy and utterly inept. In layman's terms, you are a _dork,_ Spicer, and not very evil despite how loudly you crow the contrary to anyone who will listen."

Had he been awake, Jack would be doing that very thing and frantically trying to convince his idol how _evil_ he totally, definitely was.

"…However," Chase conceded after a moment of silence, "it seems clear to me that you shall not remain that way much longer. You are less arrogant in your manner of speech, for one. I can only take that to mean you have realized that you aren't as infallible as you once believed."

Namely, Chase had noticed this change through a gradual lessening of 'evil' laughter and childish threats Jack had no power to back up. They had slowly petered out and now the triumphant laughter, leagues less inane, only appeared when Spicer actually _did_ have the upper hand.

As for the threats…

"You seem to have taken a more realistic look at yourself and what you wanted to achieve when no one was looking," Chase mused. "It's the only thing that would explain why you are suddenly taking notice of your own flaws and failings and finally compensating for them."

Quite literally _everyone_ had long known that one-on-one combat was Jack's weakest point—except, perhaps, for Jack himself. It had never seemed to occur to him to avoid challenges or actual fights that would put him up against someone bigger, stronger, and more skilled than he was, which might very well explain why he would so often end up limping home to lick his deep and many wounds, defeated.

To Chase's notice, such a thing had been happening less; with both less severity and less frequency. Spicer's tactics had come to focus on speed and evasion, his strong-suits, and while it didn't yield him many more victories, he was no longer dragging himself off the battlefield a bruised or bloodied wreck.

"At some point, it seems you learned at least _some _kind of impulse control, too," Chase went on. "Your plans lately have actually had premeditation behind them."

It had been just over a month since Jack had attempted barely organized nonsense which, in a pop culture reference, Inigo Montoya might call him out on for using the word 'plan' to describe it. More recent examples of Jack's scheming admittedly ended in failure most of the time, but there was a traceable _logic_ to them that definitely wasn't always there.

"And," Chase continued his monologue with a slight souring of tone, "there is your current predicament to consider." Speaking more directly to Jack, he imperiously said, "Your interference was most unneeded. That spell was of no threat to me. Practically worshiping me as you do, you should've known that better than anyone."

Jack's unchanged, slumberous expression soundly reminded Chase that he was talking only to himself. He frowned.

"Still…it is the _thought _that counts, isn't that what they say? Passing over the truth of the matter, your willingness to sacrifice yourself for me, however unnecessary is…pleasing. It speaks of a fealty I haven't seen in you before."

After another moment, Chase added, "And no one else sees it, either."

The warlord knew for a fact that no one else besides himself had noticed these positive changes in Spicer. If he had only been one of many…

Well. Aside from Chase, there were few involved in the Conflict that understood the finer points of subtlety and as of now, Jack did not find himself besieged by a Wuya desperate to reform their partnership or stalked by a Bean looking to use and deceive him.

And as for the monks, they still treated their first enemy as no more than a nuisance long outgrown, even as he was evolving into something that could be far more dangerous right before their eyes, yet well outside their notice.

It was probably the reason they were disappointed in hitting _only_ Spicer with that spell and why they flippantly laughed about how it would at least get him out of their hair for awhile, because who would kiss _Jack_?

"Who, indeed?" Chase murmured, his eyes falling once more upon the goth's sleep-stricken form.

The dragonlord hesitated to speak aloud the obvious answer, despite the fact that no one would hear it.

"I am in a very unique position, Jack," he said instead, as if he were actually debating with the unconscious youth. "The others have yet to see your recent improvements for what they are. They all believe you to be incompetent still, and incapable of change while I alone know differently. I am in literally the _perfect _position to snatch you up and teach you how to obtain your potential in my keeping; under my rule."

He paused a moment, folding his arms over his chest as he considered it.

"I'll probably be the object of quite a bit of laughter for doing so," he admitted, "but I imagine the satisfaction when they stop laughing and realize what a grave error they've committed in passing you up will far surpass any embarrassment on my part."

Of course, achieving that sort of satisfaction necessitated Jack being _awake._

Chase sighed at the mental reminder. _Damn _that vague spell, truly! There was so much about 'True Love's Kiss' that it left undefined, unexplained. There was too much about the conditions to breaking the spell that Chase simply did not know.

For a kiss able to break the unnatural sleep, did it have to be romantic love? Familial love? Sexual love?

If it were a sexually-based love, Chase thought, a kiss from him _not_ working didn't even seem feasible.

Taking a long look at Spicer, Chase reconfirmed what he had known for many weeks now: Jack was not hard on the eyes.

Idly carding a hand through bright red hair, Chase acknowledged its naturalness despite the oddity of the color. Jack's eyes, too, were an interesting shade of red, not in the clichéd likeness of rubies, but in keeping with a gemstone metaphor, like cherry opals or _just_ the right type of garnet. It was a damn shame that they were currently closed.

Inspecting what stark white skin of Jack's was to be seen proved it apparently flawless, as well, not the product of makeup and largely free of blemishes or marks. Chase found himself casting a disparaging glance at the heavy black clothing Jack preferred, deciding that it left perhaps a bit _too_ much to the imagination. He would very much like to see if that pale skin was so smooth and unmarked everywhere else.

Yes, Spicer would prove a very suitable and attractive trophy for the everlord's home—albeit an easily-won trophy with very little real effort behind its being obtained, but a trophy nonetheless. If this spell were a matter of whether or not Chase felt sexual love for Jack, it was a nonissue.

Romantic love was a thing more problematic.

"I don't love you," Chase said aloud to the spellbound Jack. "How could I love you? I barely know you. I do believe that my nature and your nature as it will be and is becoming are compatible. We would do well together, certainly. As such, love is a _possibility_ in the _future,_ but it is not a _current reality, _and I cannot make it so."

He sighed again when no response came.

"But you love me already, don't you?" he wondered rhetorically.

That Jack Spicer was head over heels in love with him had long seemed a universal truth to Chase, but as with everything, there were doubts. Spicer fawned over him quite a lot, but that alone did not mean it was love. The adoring gazes he was subject to when Jack believed him to not be looking helped support the _idea_ of love, as did many behavioral cues Spicer gave him without even realizing that he was doing it.

Even then, though, it could still be explained away as mere hero worship, or if it really _did_ stray into romantic territory, then as a childish infatuation to be forgotten with time.

And for that matter, even if it _was_ true love on Jack's part, need it also be a mutual love to fulfill the spells conditions properly? Would it pick up on Chase's intentions of maybe someday returning Jack's love, or would it simply sense the fact that he wasn't in love _now_ and leave the magicks untouched?

Chase resisted the urge to growl. If the fool who had made this spell hadn't died before he'd been born, Chase would've have killed him for crafting such an unclear and subjective enchantment.

"I loathe failure," he declared aloud. "That there is even the _possibility _of it annoys me."

But even if it should fail, Chase Young was not the sort of man to give up without so much as trying. To do so would irreparably damage his pride, that he should be so cowardly as to refuse a challenge.

Hopping down from the lab table, Chase stood to his full height above Jack. He imagined that to an onlooker, he would be seen now as a devoted prince coming to rescue his fair, sleeping maiden.

Said onlooker would probably die of laughter seeing such a classic scene so warped: a gothic, albino 'sleeping beauty' and a wicked overlord 'prince,' and both _male._A stupid parody, indeed.

Nonetheless, Chase leaned over Jack.

"Well, Spicer," he said quietly, "let's see if this works."

Having said this, he pressed his lips firmly against Jack's, kissing him and waiting for a reaction.

It came.

Jack's breathing, which had been slight and even, abruptly hitched and was quickly followed by a low groan.

Chase smirked against the goth's lips. Whether it had been Jack's love that was sensed, or Chase's intentions or something else entirely, the magic holding Jack's consciousness bound was very quickly dissipating.

It seemed that the creator of the spell did not need to die a more horrible death, after all.

Nearly pulling back, having done what he had intended, Chase was surprised to find himself tugged back down into a deeper kiss by an arm around his neck. A quick check assured him that Jack was still shrugging off the forced sleep and not yet _truly_ awake. Likely, he thought himself to be merely dreaming of being kissed.

Chase could have easily ended the kiss, doing the gentlemanly thing and kissing Jack only when he was well aware of its reality.

As JB-13 had earlier pointed out, however, Chase was not in possession of a single shred of moral decency and he was most definitely not a gentleman, especially in the face of the amusement this could provide.

He kissed back, gently so as not to startle Jack awake too quickly. Spicer eagerly welcomed this attention and groggily encouraged more by parting his lips in invitation. Chase took it and his tongue played lazily, casually with Jack's for a moment or two.

And then, Jack went completely rigid.

Chase had only a few seconds to brace himself as he was _shoved _back by the shoulders, managing to only be forced back a single step as a now most definitely awake Jack scrambled backwards, breathing hard.

It was with wide, red eyes and a tone somewhere in between panic and disbelief that Jack spoke for the first time in several days. "_Chase_?"

For his part, Chase could not repress his grin. "Good morning, Spicer," he greeted. "Although, perhaps I should say afternoon, considering the time of day."

Jack blinked at him for a few seconds, uncomprehending. It seemed to occur to him that had no idea how he had gotten in this particular situation when his last memories did not at all involve falling asleep on his lab table.

"What—"

"You've been under the influence of a sleeping spell for nearly a week, Jack," Chase calmly explained. "You may consider my waking you just now a favor for the devotion you have shown in jumping into the line of fire when you believed me to be at risk."

Memory slowly dawned on Jack's face and he simultaneously flushed a pinkish color. "I…You _kissed_—"

"Your devotion," Chase interrupted him, "is very pleasing to me, Jack. Should you keep it up, I may be inclined to do you favors similar to this one more often."

Chase did not give Jack a chance to respond to that statement and quickly, magically took his leave.

He knew well enough what Spicer's opportunistic nature was and how persistent he could be in regards to the dragonlord. Having both a cryptic and tempting parting statement such as that _and_ a kiss as further motivation…

Chase was fairly certain he could expect an interesting visit from Jack in a day or so, if not mere _hours._

**...**

**A/N: Still for Silvarbelle, and yep, length-restrictions are making me split this into more parts than just one. Ideally, there'll only be one more part after this one, but again, we'll see. XD**

**_Twenty Five -_What? Inspired by Pride and Prejudice? What ever would give you that idea? *totally innocently hides copy of the book* Actually, yeah, but just because Darcy's out of nowhere love confession made me think so much of Chase. It'd be just like him to treat Jack like crap for years and then come out all of a sudden with, "So, yeah, I'm in love with you. Deal with it." XD**

**_Twenty Six -_ I imagine it must drive Chase crazy to let someone as wishy-washy as Jack just _leave,_ and we never really see in the show how Chase reacts _after_ Jack's visits, so I decided to explore that a teensy bit. ;P**

**_Twenty Seven -_Good sweet fuck, I have wanted to write this for so long. Jack's a goddamn genius with robotics, just a teensy bit power-mad, and we're supposed to believe he hasn't built his own immortality yet? I ain't buying it.**

**_Twenty Eight -_The Sleeping Beauty trope is a classic. It would be neglectful to leave that out of such a gigantic collection of ficlets. XD**

**Anyway! Part 5 is done. Expect at _least_ one more part to all this nonsense at some point soon! :D**


	6. Twenty Nine and Thirty

**33 Ways (Jack Could've Hooked Up With Chase)**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, implications of sexual situations, etc.**

**...**

**Twenty Nine -**

"This is all _your _fault."

"_My_ fault?" Jack demanded. "Go _fuck_ yourself, this whole thing was _your _idea!"

"And it would've worked," Wuya hissed, "if _you_ hadn't screwed it up like I knew you would!"

Jack scoffed. "Oh, sure, _I_ screwed up. Well, if you really knew that, why the hell'd you drag me along?"

Wuya didn't answer.

"_I_ didn't even want to be here," Jack continued. "_You _made me come!"

"Because you wouldn't build me what I told you to build!" the witch snapped. "If you'd just given me what I asked for, you could've stayed home _alone_ like always."

"Ohhhh, here we go." Jack rolled his eyes. "This is the part where you try to make me feel like a loser just because I don't want to be your doormat anymore."

"You _are_ a loser, Jack," Wuya declared, "_and_ a doormat. You just couldn't stand the idea of anything bad happening to your precious Chase!"

"You're acting like you actually could've _done_ something to him," Jack sneered. "He's so far beyond you, you're eating his _dust's_ dust, Wuya."

"I could've!" Wuya insisted. "If you had kept your mouth shut, I could've been ruling him by now!"

Jack snorted. "Sure. And that's why we're in his dungeon right now, yeah?"

Wuya hmphed and following the noise was the sound of rattling chains and grunting as she tried to wriggle her body into a more upright position without the use of her arms.

"We're here because you screwed up my plans," she said. Soon afterwards, she sighed deeply. "This is so embarrassing. It was such a simple strategy! What will the other Heylin say?"

"Less than you, I hope."

"Oh, you're one to talk!" the witch exclaimed. "The only reason he caught us was because you couldn't keep your mouth shut! Can't you pick the lock or something?"

Through the darkness, Jack gave her a look that could only be translated as, 'are you fucking kidding me?' To emphasize the point, he raised his hands, clasped uselessly together within a metal sphere.

"With _what_ do you expect me to pick the lock?" he demanded, tapping the ball against the prison bars that separated them. "My feet? I don't have the Monkey Staff, woman: _you_ wouldn't let me bring it!"

"Woman?" Wuya echoed, sounding quite affronted. "How dare you talk to a lady that way, Jack? Didn't your mother teach you better?"

"Sure," Jack shrugged, "mom always taught me to be a gentleman when ladies were present, but I don't see any."

Wuya scowled. "You rotten little brat!" There was more rattling as the chained witch tried to get _something_ through the bars to strike at him. "At least _I'm _not so weak that my hands were the only thing Chase thought to bind!"

Jack, unfettered but for the encasement on his hands, frowned and stood up so that he could walk over to the other end of his cell.

"He probably just left me free so that I could move," he haughtily surmised. "I bet he was grateful that I busted you, and he didn't want to let you drool rabies all over me."

"Why, you—!"

"Ladies, ladies," sighed a new voice, "you're both pretty. Can you cease lunging for each other's throats for more than five minutes?"

"Chase!" came the simultaneous greeting to the warlord who had materialized just outside the bars.

"I see I was right to separate you," Chase mused as he approached one of the cells. "If anything, I may have erred in keeping you _this _close to one another."

"It's not _my_ fault Jack is such a snot-nosed little _child_!" Wuya exclaimed.

With just a touch from one of Chase's gloved hands, the cell door slid open and upon seeing which one it was, the witch had much more to say.

"Why does _he_ get to go free?" she all but shrieked as Chase silently gestured for Jack to come forward. "He was as much a part of this as I was! He did even _more_ than I did!"

"Oh, sure," said Jack, "_now _I'm the evil mastermind—when it gets you off the hook!"

"_No one_ is off the hook," Chase said coldly and the firmness of his tone (however temporarily) silenced the argument. "I do not take kindly to those who sneak into my home and attempt to steal my things, _especially_ when the defense charms _all_ throughout my stronghold are sabotaged."

Jack's eyes widened and he swallowed hard as Chase caught his shoulder and pulled him the rest of the way out of the cell.

"Um…" he began weakly. "Wh…what are you going to do to me?"

"Provided you cooperate?" Chase wondered. "Absolutely nothing. I merely wish to ask you a few questions about what happened here today."

"And when do I get to tell _my_ side of the story?" Wuya demanded to know.

"_After_ Spicer tells me his," said Chase.

"Why does _he_ get to go first?"

"Spicer has earned the right to go first for _quiet _behavior," Chase snapped at her, "though I imagine that's something you wouldn't understand. Come, Jack."

Jumping at the feeling of a hand on his back, pushing lightly, Jack began walking. He easily tuned out the offended curses Wuya continued spewing as they left, but it was much more difficult to _not_ think of all the many ways the man guiding him from behind could kill him horribly.

Truly, Jack had never so badly wanted someone else to know of his innocence.

"Chase," he said quietly, "I—"

"Not yet, Spicer," Chase interrupted him. "I will tell you when you may speak."

Jack had to try very hard to successfully resist the urge to whimper and launch into a tearful session of begging and pleading and maybe (if it looked like his idol would buy it) crying.

He managed to hold out until he was led through an open door and into a small room. Thankfully, it was not filled with the horrible instruments of torture Jack had been expecting, but the relief at that failed to cheer him.

Instead of a torture chamber, the room Jack had been brought to was well-lit, dry and, warm in complete opposite to the dungeon he had just been taken from. The furniture was sparse, consisting only of two fairly small armchairs and a coffee table in between them, but the decoration provided by the rugs and wall hangings made it feel somehow homey.

The fact that Chase had such a room in his dungeon, however, alongside the very loud 'click' as the door to said room was locked pushed Jack _closer _to panic than pulling him away from it.

"Chase," he tried again, sounding more desperate than before, "you gotta know that I—"

"I did _not_ yet give you permission to talk, Spicer," the dragonlord curtly reminded, casually seating himself in the nicer of the chairs. "Sit."

Jack stared at the empty chair as if it might come alive and devour him. "Uh…I can stand, really, it's no pro—"

"_Sit,_" Chase again ordered.

Jack sat.

Chase smiled at his prisoner. "Good," he said. "Now, I'm going to ask you questions and you are going to answer them. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that your skills in deception are not so advanced as to effectively fool me, so lies will not do you any good."

Jack swallowed hard again, but nodded vigorously.

Chase eyed him for a moment and, apparently finding him suitably intimidated, asked his first question. "What was the object of this afternoon's failed break-in?"

"I didn't want to break in!" Jack said quickly. "I wanted nothing to do with this, but Wuya—"

Chase cut him off with a single raised hand. "My question," he said, "was not who is at fault in this. I am not interested in listening to blame games. What I asked was what the _point _of both of your breaking in was."

Jack was visibly distressed at not being able to freely plead his case, but he did know much, _much_ better than to be uncooperative with Chase as annoyed as the man now was.

"The Sun Chi Lantern," he said slowly.

Chase frowned. "The Shen Gong Wu that absorbs chi. I don't suppose I have to wonder why you would want that."

"I don't!" Jack blurted out before he could stop himself.

Instead of reprimanding him for speaking out of turn again, Chase merely raised an eyebrow. "So, it was Wuya that wanted it?"

Jack nodded.

"I'm quite certain I would get the exact opposite story from her," Chase said sardonically. "If Wuya were truly the only one interested in stealing such a thing from me, why would you have come along, I wonder?"

"I didn't want to," Jack pled. "She forced me to come."

"You have a free will, Spicer," Chase reminded succinctly. "You are capable of making your own decisions. Unless she held a gun to your head, of course, but she was searched and no firearms were found on her person."

"She doesn't need a gun if she's got the Ruby of Ramses."

Chase's cold, calculating front wavered a moment and he sat up just a bit straighter. "The Ruby of Ramses. She was controlling you?"

Jack's cheeks flushed with the smallest hint of color, embarrassed as he was to admit having fallen prey to such a thing again. Even so, he nodded.

Chase frowned at him. "There was _nothing_ found on her," he reiterated, "and yet, you don't seem to be lying. How is it that she was searched and the Wu wasn't discovered?"

The pink blush darkened to red. "She…before we got caught, she…put it…" Jack awkwardly twisted his arms toward himself, looking as if he was trying to gesture instead of putting it into words. Unfortunately, the sphere confining his hands turned whatever motion he was trying to make incomprehensible and he sighed. "It's in her cleavage," he said. "I really didn't want to say that. I feel like I need to brush my teeth, now…"

Chase grimaced. "That would certainly explain how it would've gotten past a simple pat down. Still, I refuse to subject one of my warriors to the unpleasantness of such a more extensive search unless it is sure to yield results. Do you stand by your statement, Spicer?"

Jack's eyebrows knit together. "Um…what exactly is my statement? So I know what I'm agreeing to?"

"You maintain that your body was being controlled by Wuya via the Ruby of Ramses, which, if you speak the truth, is currently down the front of her dress?"

Jack winced. "Yeah. I maintain that…_that._"

Chase nodded once and in the blink of an eye, was gone. Jack, of course, knew better than to get up from his seat and attempt any kind of escape. The dragonlord would surely return quickly, and besides that, any escape attempts were doomed from the start with his hands bound as they were.

True to form, Chase reappeared in the small room within an interval of fifteen minutes, looking particularly aggravated as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Are…you okay?" Jack timidly wondered.

Chase responded first with a snort, and then with actual words. "Your words have proven true, Spicer," he conceded. "A more thorough search did turn up the Ruby of Ramses precisely where you said it would be."

"No offense to your warriors or anything, but…how'd they miss it in the first place?"

Chase laid a hand over his eyes. "I will admit," he said at length, "that I am partially to blame for that. Naturally, I do not consider Wuya to be a very serious threat to me without her magic. That said, I did not insist on a truly scrupulous search of her and I made the mistake of trusting my minions when they told me the search they'd done had turned up nothing."

Jack immediately understood what Chase was not saying. "They didn't want to go digging in there, either."

Chase shook his head. "Apparently, they were under the foolish impression that I wouldn't punish them for neglecting it if I didn't find out."

"If," Jack repeated.

"A very stupid 'if,'" agreed Chase, dropping back into the chair he had earlier left.

There was a brief silence, which Jack hesitantly broke.

"So…um, now that you know I didn't intentionally do anything…can I leave?"

Chase smirked at him. Jack did not like the look of it one bit "I'm afraid I can't let you go yet."

"What?" Jack looked the very definition of shocked and dismayed. "Wh…why not?"

"My home," Chase explained, "was broken into today. The spells I have to alert me to intruders were damaged beyond repair and must now be recast to be of any use. I was nearly robbed of the Sun Chi Lantern, and if I have even the slightest inkling of what was to be done with it, nearly robbed of my power for it to be turned against me."

"But…_Wuya_—"

"—orchestrated events so that those things happened, yes," Chase finished for him. "But she has no magic of her own. To have set up those things, she first needed someone who could _do_ them. She chose _you _for that, Jack."

"…I didn't _want _to," Jack mumbled weakly.

"So you keep saying. The fact remains that you were somehow _capable_ and I cannot allow you to leave until I know _how._"

Jack sighed, slumping back into his chair. After a moment, he raised his hands, the light in the room glinting off the ball keeping them folded tightly within. "Can you at least take this off first?" he asked. "I…talk with my hands a lot. If I'm gonna tell a story, it'd be easier for me with this thing gone."

Chase calmly considered the request in silence and soon snapped his fingers. The sphere split in two immediately, the halves hitting the rug with a dull 'thunk' as Jack groaned in relief and cracked his knuckles and rolled his wrists.

"Whatever power you have gained is not of a physical or magical nature," Chase said, sensing no change in Jack's chi or aura, "and I _know_ that you were searched more meticulously than Wuya was." Diol could always be trusted to do a thorough job. Really, he should've had the jaguar search _both_ prisoners instead of just Spicer. "Should you attempt to surprise me anyway, you may expect a swift and painful retaliation."

Pleasingly enough, Jack appeared to take the threat seriously, nodding quickly and launching into his tale.

"Well…I guess it was a couple of months ago…" He paused for a second. "You…probably even didn't notice, but it was when I stopped coming to Showdowns."

"Four months, one week, and five days ago," said Chase, "I remember." At the startled look Jack gave him, he grinned. "I am more aware of you than you seem to think, Spicer. Continue."

Jack did so. "Right, well…if you remember all that, then you remember how I got beat in that last fight."

"Yes, with the Eye of Dashi."

Nodding, Jack explained, "When I got zapped, I guess the only thing I could think about was that it sucked that I wasn't grounded at the time, because more of the electricity would've been absorbed by the earth. And then, on the way back home, I started thinking about how Showdowns would be so much easier if everything I had thrown at me could be redirected or disrupted like that."

"Which led you to a revelation," Chase deduced.

"Yeah. By the time I got back to my lab, I was already thinking about different ways I could manipulate stuff like the Eye of Dashi when I realized I actually _could_ apply it to more than just Wu."

"In what way?"

"All energy is manipulatable," Jack said. "You're pretty skilled with magic, so you know that magic _is_ energy, just a different kind that mankind at large has yet to harness."

Chase had a feeling he knew where this was going. "And you found a way to harness it?"

Jack, however, shook his head. "Magic as energy is too different to me," he admitted. "I don't know how to wield it, but I _did_ figure out how to disable it."

"How?" Chase demanded.

"The way I visualize it is as a current," said Jack. "Like, maybe a TV plugged into a wall socket or something. When it's working right, the plug establishes a current and runs it to the TV, which makes it function normally. Keeping with the metaphor, I don't know how to pull the plug, but with a little bit of effort, I can send the current back the other way and boom! Metaphorically, anyway."

Chase took a minute to process what Jack was saying. "You've discovered a way to disrupt magical energies by redirecting them back at their source?"

"Basically," Jack shrugged. "Like I said, magic is energy just like electricity is, but most people haven't figured out what…frequency it's on, for lack of a better word. I found the frequency and I built something to send out pulses on that frequency. The pulses knock the energy back and wreck whatever magic's going on in about a mile radius. I was working on expanding the distance when Wuya found out about it."

"And where is that machine now?" Should such a thing fall into the wrong (or right) hands…

Thankfully, Jack's answer alleviated that fear. "Destroyed," he said. "When I found out Wuya was sniffing around, I dismantled it and burned all the blueprints. The original doesn't exist anymore."

"Original," Chase repeated. "So you made another."

Jack winced. "Wuya forced me!" he protested. "I wouldn't rebuild it for her when she told me what she wanted to use it for, so she took matters into her own hands. Or…I guess _my_ hands, but I was an unwilling participant the whole time!"

"First things first," Chase said firmly. "Where is the second machine?"

"Your cat got it off me," Jack informed. "It looks a little like a Taser, so he probably took it thinking it was a weapon. It is, just not the kind he thought it was."

Chase nodded. He _did_ remember seeing such an object among Spicer's effects, so there was no need to go do another check.

"There is still one more matter of concern," he nonetheless continued. "I will believe that Wuya was controlling your body throughout this. However, the Ruby of Ramses does not control the victim's mind and unless you're going to tell me that the Mind Reader Conch is also hidden on Wuya's person in a _far_ more unpleasant place, you must have told her how to make your body rebuild the machine."

Jack took his time in answering. "I…yeah. I did…"

"So, you are less innocent in this than you claim to be, Spicer."

"No," Jack pled, "really, I didn't want to do any of this!"

"Then why did you give her the information she was after?"

Jack squirmed in his seat. "She…I…"

"Well?" Chase prompted.

"She said if I didn't tell her, she would make me hurt myself," Jack confessed. "Badly…"

Chase frowned. "So, you claim cooperation as a means of self-preservation?"

Jack nodded. "I happened to be in mid-escape flight when she tagged me with the Wu. I was pretty high off the ground and she threatened to make me turn off my helipack and then, when I said I'd do it, she let me go, but she always had the Ruby with her in case I 'changed my mind.'"

Chase did not reply to this, and Jack chose to hesitantly continue.

"I…didn't want anything to happen to you, either," he said quietly, "but…I figured you would be able to handle Wuya better than I'd be able to handle a several hundred foot fall or however else she might've made me hurt myself, even if she _did _get the Sun Chi Lantern."

Chase raised an eyebrow. "You didn't believe she would?"

Jack made a face. "Well…to be honest, it wasn't an accident that your cats caught us."

Chase understood immediately. "You sabotaged the break-in."

"Yeah," said the goth. "Wuya was only using the Ruby of Ramses as insurance that I wouldn't run away. She didn't think about stopping me from getting your guards' attention until I did it, and then it was too late."

Only briefly considering the implications of this, Chase cut straight to the heart of the matter. "You are telling me, Spicer, that you risked your life _doubly_ in betraying Wuya and arousing my ire…because you didn't 'want anything to happen to me'?"

Jack had obviously not thought of his actions in _quite _those terms before. He blushed and looked at his boots. "I guess so," he muttered eventually.

Jack jumped, going tense as Chase suddenly stood before him.

"Chase?"

"Spicer…" the dragonlord began and Jack flinched, preparing for the worst.

It was probably why he was so surprised when his hand was caught and shaken.

"Thank you," Chase said calmly and sincerely.

"…um?"

"If not for your intentional bungling of this robbery," Chase explained to the baffled youth, "I might very well have been in dire straits right now. I won't go so far as to say Wuya's possession of the Sun Chi Lantern would have ruined me, but it would certainly have been an inconvenience. I am glad to have avoided it, so thank you."

Jack stared uncomprehendingly at his own hand for a moment. "I…you're welcome?" he tried, the words accompanied by a heavy overtone of confusion.

Chase smirked at him. "Really, Spicer," he said, "just because I'm evil doesn't mean I can't give credit where credit is due."

Jack's eyes went wide. "No, no," he hurriedly denied, "I didn't mean to say—er, to imply that! That's not what I was—"

Jack was cut off by a laugh from Chase. "Such a nervous boy," he chided. "Get up."

Standing quickly, Jack could do little more than follow as Chase unlocked the door to the room and gestured for him to exit.

"Uh…do I get to leave, now?" he hesitantly wondered.

"Soon, Spicer," Chase told him. "First, I would like to give you a reward for your assistance in this matter."

Chase grinned to himself at the shocked and wary silence that followed from Jack and continued to lead his prisoner-turned-guest out of the foreboding lower levels of his palace.

Spicer was a more valuable ally than he had once been, especially if the damage he had done to Chase's wards was any indication. It would be nothing less than prudent to remain on the goth's good side or coax him a bit more towards wanting to be on _Chase's _good side, if possible.

A gift of the Monkey Staff (which had recently come into Chase's possession) would surely be amenable to Jack and would serve as encouragement to keep up the good work.

Chase couldn't help but wonder what sort of association might arise from his acquaintance with this more powerful, loyal Jack Spicer. An alliance of some kind if Chase had his way (and he would), but there were so many different _types_ of alliances.

Would Jack be a mere associate? Would he regress to only an acquaintance once more? Or could he come to be even more?

Chase shrugged to himself and put it out of his mind. Ultimately, such questions were better left to time to answer and naturally, he had _plenty_ of that to see this through…

**Thirty -**

Chase Young paces in his lair, furious beyond all reason. His feline minions know better than to disturb him for anything less than situations of dire importance and have known so for days, when their most respected jaguar comrade was turned away with a wordless snarl.

If their master would not hear even _Diol,_ they knew well enough that they had no chance of reaching him and thoroughly pitied the poor soul who had put the dragonlord in such a foul mood.

The poor soul in question was one Tak-Siu Ng, newly migrated to the Xiaolin temple from somewhere in Southern China. It had only taken a matter of weeks from his arrival to earn Chase's complete and utter hatred which, while not in and of itself a record, was impressive considering that he had never once come into physical conflict with the Heylin man nor thwarted his evil plans.

Chase's current state, the slightest provocation away from a frothing mad rampage, was induced by very different reasons altogether.

It all started many days ago, well after Tak-Siu's arrival when the newcomer to the temple was dragged along to his very first Showdown…

Chase had not truly needed the Shen Gong Wu that had gone active that day. Truthfully, he had not even shown up to compete for it, merely to watch said competition for entertainment purposes.

Not unrelated to the matter, of course, were a myriad of recent minor improvements in Jack Spicer that bode very well for the Heylin and would bear some observation.

Chase remembered well the feeling of intrigue and anticipation that came over him when Jack easily took the Wu for his own, having used his speed and maneuverability in flight to reach the mystical object while the monks (astride Dojo) were still landing.

Jack had grinned triumphantly (and for once, it was appropriate) as the Xiaolin came running up, about to proclaim something righteous and threatening.

"Save it, losers," Jack had laughed at them. "You're too late: the Wu is mine!"

Taking his role as leader seriously, it was Pedrosa that answered him. "No way, Spicer," he said, "you haven't won yet!"

At that, Jack smirked. "Sure I have," he said with no small amount of arrogance. "You're not gonna—…"

In retrospect, Chase decided that a larger red flag should've risen for him when Spicer simply trailed off and took a distracted step closer to the Xiaolin group, his eyes fixed on a face among them that the dragonlord had not seen before.

"Well, hello there," Jack had murmured, his tone laced with something that Chase _still _didn't like even thinking of. "Who are you?"

Who, indeed, Chase had thought as the stranger stepped forward. He was a young man, as it turned out, somewhere in his early or mid-twenties: not old, but obviously no longer a teenager. His pin-straight black hair fell to about his shoulders, framing a face that was, in no uncertain terms, pretty. The man had delicate features, especially in his nose and lips that balanced charmingly with more his masculine aspects, like the cut of his jaw and the set of his brow.

Chase was fairly certain that seeing his face alone was enough of a trigger to make the warlord hate him, but alas, he did not see fit to cease being infuriating there.

"I am Tak-Siu," the man had said in a thick accent, Cantonese, Chase realized immediately. "I—"

"Tak-Siu is our new recruit," Raimundo very firmly declared. "He's our doctor."

"Butt out, Pedrosa," Jack snapped at him, "let him talk for himself!" And to Tak-Siu, Jack prompted in perfect Cantonese, "You're a doctor?"

Upon hearing a dialect he was more familiar with, the man perked. "Yes," he replied, "I studied for many years to get my doctorate. I moved here for employment."

The monks stared blankly as Jack smiled at him and once more responded indecipherably (to them), "So, you took up with the monks? No offense, but you're not gonna make much money that way."

Tak-Siu did not appear offended in the least. "I did not become a doctor for the money," he said plainly. "I wish to do good and help others. I couldn't think of a better place to do it than the Xiaolin temple, even though they can't pay me much."

Chase had nearly gagged at such a weak, sappy sentiment, utterly disgusted by this newcomer already.

It was probably why he was so startled when Jack appeared momentarily at a loss for words.

"That's…really—" was all Jack had time to say before he was abruptly shoved to the ground, the Wu he'd been holding wrenched out of his hands.

"Ha!" Kimiko laughed, holding it aloft. "That's what you get for being distracted, Jack!"

Shocked and quickly angry, Jack got to his feet, speaking once again in Mandarin. "You rotten bitch! That was _my_ Wu!"

The girl winked at him. "Sorry, Jack, you snooze, you lose. Good job distracting him, Tak-Siu!"

Tak-Siu, however, did not appear victorious. He only seemed confused at what had just transpired, as if he couldn't comprehend it.

Jack glared at him and slipped back into Cantonese. "Nice monks you're shacked up with," he said, sarcasm oozing from his tone. "Bet you'll do a lot of good with those jerks."

Somehow, Chase felt very satisfied with this turn of events. Though he couldn't yet put his finger on why, he was very much pleased that Jack was angry and fully planned to leave as such.

That pleasure was abruptly gone when a frowning Tak-Siu reached out and caught Jack's shoulder as he turned his back on them.

"Hey!" cried Kimiko as the Wu was taken back from her. "What are you doing?"

Tak-Siu didn't even look at her as he placed the Wu back into Jack's hands, saying, "This is yours."

"Tak-Siu," Raimundo all but hissed, "why are you giving that back to him? He's evil!"

"Yes," Omi agreed. "I know your intentions are good, my friend, but Jack Spicer will only do harm in possession of Shen Gong Wu."

"Uh…not that I don't want to keep it," said Jack to Tak-Siu, "but…what they said."

"It is yours," Tak-Siu said again before turning to the other monks and once more speaking in heavily accented Mandarin. "The Shen Gong Wu belongs to Spicer. He did not win it, but it was his as soon as he picked it up. Just because he may do harm with it later does not give you the right to take it from him unfairly. You are monks: you should know this better than anyone."

The monks clearly did not know how to respond to what was essentially a scolding, and half of them hung their heads and inspected the ground while the other half tried and failed to say something in protest.

At this time, Chase's attention was focused squarely on Jack and his dislike towards this newcomer was only growing by the second. It most certainly wasn't helped by the hesitant smile the goth gave him.

"Wow…that was… I mean, they do this crap all the time, but nobody ever calls them on it. Thanks."

Tak-Siu smiled in return. "There is no need to thank me. I merely did what was right. Those who are evil are no less entitled to the same basic treatment as anyone else."

Jack's smiled faded. "I…nobody's ever…said that about me before."

"I can see how you may have lost your way, then. Hell is filled with people who could've avoided it by a common courtesy done towards them."

Chase nearly snorted, waiting for Jack to once more become angry and deny having 'lost his way.' Spicer was very keen on making sure others knew how completely evil he was, after all.

On Jack's part, however, there was no anger. There was only a brief silence and then, "Hey, um…feel free to say no to this, but I know Mandarin pretty well and it sounds like you're having trouble learning. I…wouldn't mind it so much if you wanted to come over sometime and I could…give you pointers…?"

Tak-Siu smiled, so damnably _pretty_ that Chase hated him all over again. "I would like that very much, Spicer."

Jack blushed and Chase felt an abrupt need to do murder, but it was too quick and directionless a thing to actually follow through on. "Yeah, well…when you come by, don't bust through the wall and we won't have any problems. I'll drop you a line or something when I'm not so busy."

"As you like."

Chase was far too arrested with a violent irritation to safely remain on the site for very long and called upon his magicks to return himself to his palace immediately, even as Jack activated his helipack and left.

So relieved to be out of Tak-Siu's presence was he that it didn't even occur to him how much he might come to loathe the man in the coming weeks.

Tak-Siu _did_ in fact take Spicer up on his offer of tutoring and quickly began spending an inordinate amount of time with the boy. His Mandarin speedily improved in a short few weeks, and Chase found, to his utmost annoyance, that he could no longer hate the man for his ignorance of the dialect most commonly spoken in the area he had moved to.

Of course, Chase had _plenty_ of other reasons to hate Tak-Siu.

That the doctor would so often be lurking around the Spicer estate was only one such reason. Ostensibly, he was there to learn, but after several weeks of visitation, it was clear that education was not his only motive.

Tak-Siu, it seemed, had taken a liking to Jack, and Chase did not like _that _one bit.

Even after Tak-Siu had a firmer grasp on Mandarin and could not possibly benefit from further instruction, he continued to show up at Spicer's home 'just to visit.' What was worse, he was _actually_ invited in and given an audience with the mansion's only living resident!

Chase had looked in on several of these 'visits' and quickly been disgusted by the warm smiles and friendly words, but always forced himself to stop watching when the casual touches appeared. It was just too nauseating to watch Spicer, a promising enough addition to the Heylin, associate so…so…_affably_ with such a paragon of Xiaolin goodness.

Frankly, Tak-Siu posed a problem that had never worried Chase before in that he was legitimately _good._ Some of the masters at the temple matched him in goodness, of course; he was not _uniquely_ good, but Chase had never needed to concern himself with other such people. They were all little involved in the Conflict or too old to catch Spicer's attention.

But Tak-Siu…Tak-Siu was young and beautiful and genuinely good in a way that none of the other, younger monks could hope to match. He always had an encouraging word for Jack and was always on hand after a battle to help him stitch or wrap up his wounds and it was obvious enough that Jack _liked_ him for it. Jack, of course, being widely known as the Stockholm Syndrome Kid, likely to switch sides at the drop of a hat, made the situation exceptionally disquieting.

Pretty, youthful, and _moving in on his turf…_It was no wonder Chase hated Tak-Siu from the get-go.

But it wasn't even _that_ which had brought the dragonlord to his current enraged state. Chase most certainly loathed the doctor _and_ his growing relationship with Spicer, but that alone could not work him up into such a violent, hellfire-spewing, cursing mood.

It had happened mere hours ago. Chase had finally become fed up with the way things were going and as luck would have it, another Wu had gone active just as he was thinking how to properly confront Spicer and put an end to this nonsense.

He had teleported there and arrived just in time to see Jack block a powerful punch from Clay Bailey and then use the cowboy's own momentum to flip him over his shoulder.

For a moment, Chase could only stare at the scene in shock, even as Jack began to laugh.

"Holy crap," he'd crowed, "it actually worked! I did it!" He noticed Chase and his grin broadened. "Chase, did you see that?"

"I saw it," he managed to say. "_Where _did you learn to do that?"

"I taught him."

The sudden onslaught of blind fury was tightly controlled into nothing more than an unfriendly look at Tak-Siu.

Clay groaned as he sat up. "Tak-Siu, yer s'posed to beat the bad guys up, not teach 'em how to beat _us_ up!"

"I did no such thing," the doctor assured. "Spicer did not know any martial arts. He was at a clear disadvantage."

"He's _supposed_ to be at a disadvantage!" Raimundo exclaimed.

"Just as monks are supposed to fight those who can't defend themselves?" Tak-Siu wondered. "I taught him nothing offensive, but it would be wrong for you to attack him with all your strength if he didn't know _any_ defensive techniques."

"Impossible," Chase had said curtly. "Spicer is _unteachable_ when it comes to physical combat."

Jack's face had fallen at that comment, but Chase had not paid him any mind. He was far too busy glaring at the impossibly serene expression on Tak-Siu's damnably pretty face.

"Spicer is _completely_ teachable," the Xiaolin man insisted. "He was a perfectly quick study with a bit of encouragement."

Chase scowled. "_I_ taught him once," he'd said. "He couldn't learn a thing from _me._"

Tak-Siu all but shrugged. "Perhaps he just needs a softer touch."

Chase _heard_ the victorious 'than yours' that was meant to follow that sentence and his blood ran hot and cold at the same time. For the first time, he truly _looked_ at Tak-Siu; at his stupidly pretty face and his stupidly pretty eyes and saw something in both that he had somehow missed.

Jack wasn't the only one enamored in this. Tak-Siu at his core was no monk and had taken no vow of celibacy. Regardless of his innate goodness, he would _not_ adhere to a vow he had not made when a prize such as Jack Spicer sat before him.

If allowed, Tak-Siu _would _take Spicer right out from under Chase's nose.

The tidal wave of pure, unadulterated hate and greed and _mine**NO **_that crashed over the warlord in that moment was so powerful that his body was for a second completely frozen.

Then, in a deadly calm voice, he said, "We shall see about that," and made himself leave. The baffled stares he received from the monks and Spicer were of no consequence to him, and the battle-ready frown of Tak-Siu only added fuel to the fire.

It was as good as a declaration of war.

For the few hours he had been back within his stronghold, Chase had roared and snarled and ranted as he had in the days leading up to this latest offense, but now with _purpose._

There was no time for 'waiting' or 'going slow' anymore, not with Spicer so close to being snatched up by someone else. Before Chase could enact one or several of his many plans to make Tak-Siu suffer horribly, terribly, and painfully, he would have to lay claim to Jack, whether the goth was ready for it or not.

That, and Chase honestly had no idea what Tak-Siu's fighting style was like and how it stacked up to his own. Should it come to blows, it would be much safer for Jack to be secured and out of the way by then.

And though it vexed him to admit it, Chase was no longer certain who Jack would root for if he and the doctor were to battle and the thought of Spicer intervening to prevent Tak-Siu from being killed was not one he liked to think about.

Either way, Spicer was currently Chase's priority and he now materialized within the shadows of his lab so that he could take him.

He was not even given a chance to step out of the darkness when Jack began speaking.

"I don't know, Tak-Siu," he said, "you're asking…a lot."

"I only ask because I believe I can make you happy," that damnable doctor replied, such sincerity in his tone that Chase had to physically hold himself back from growling.

Jack looked uncertain. "I know, I know, and I really like you, too, but…you're asking me to turn my back on everything I believe in. I just don't know…"

"It _will_ be a change for you, Spicer, but you could do so much _good _if you only tried."

Jack snorted. "I tried it once and failed miserably," he said.

"Because you didn't have someone to guide you," Tak-Siu insisted, taking Jack's hands in his own. "Spicer…come back to the temple with me. I can show you the right way and I can make you happy. _Be_ with me, Jack: there's nothing wrong with being just a 'boy genius.'"

Chase saw Jack waver and knew immediately what was happening.

Spicer was about to officially swear his allegiance to the Xiaolin and unlike the last time, he would actually have a reason to _remain_ that way.

No. Godsdamned. Way.

Conflicted and resigned, Jack sighed. "Well…I guess I—"

There was a very audible _crack_ in the relative silence of the laboratory as Chase's fist collided with Tak-Siu's face, nearly drowned out by the volume of the vicious snarl that accompanied it.

Jack had been rendered speechless by the dragonlord's sudden, lightning-quick appearance and could only stare as Tak-Siu fell backwards and hit the floor hard, blood dripping from what was probably a broken nose.

The doctor did not get back up and Jack remained stunned until Chase, with a most superior sneer declared, "Pathetic. Knocked out with one punch!"

Whirling about, Jack managed to look upset and confused and angry all at once. "Chase!" he exclaimed. "You…Tak-Siu… Why the hell would you—mmph!"

Whatever Jack had intended to say was henceforth muffled by Chase's lips over his own, kissing him possessively hard and rough. Ending the kiss as suddenly as he'd started it, the warlord pulled himself up to his full, intimidating height, looming over Jack with a scowl as he held his face.

"Spicer," he growled, "you will _not_ associate with this piece of Xiaolin trash any longer! I absolutely _forbid_ it. You are _mine._"

"Chase…" Jack stared at him for a long moment with an incomprehensible expression. Chase steeled himself against the indignant anger that was sure to come his way at such a sudden and commanding statement.

Instead of doing what made sense, however, Spicer all but tackled him, hugging him tightly and declaring with no small amount of relief, "Oh, thank _god_!"

Chase blinked once, twice, thrice, before frowning deeply and prying the youth off of him. "You're _happy_?" he demanded.

Jack smiled brightly at him, looking downright giddy. "Of course I'm happy!" he said. "You just _kissed_ me, and right when I thought I was gonna have to settle!"

"Settle?"

"For Tak-Siu," Jack explained. "He wanted me to turn good for him and I almost said yes."

Chase scowled. "I gathered that much, thank you."

"Oh, but it's okay now," Jack said, his grin returning, "I don't have to settle because you want me!" He paused. "You do want me…right?"

Chase nodded and was immediately hugged again.

"Oh, man, this is so awesome!" Jack squealed. "I can't believe _Chase Young _just kissed me!"

Once more, Chase pushed him off, shaking his head. "Wait, Spicer," he said. "Your interest has been with me this entire time?"

"Of course," Jack nodded, "it always was."

"Then why did you seem so besotted with…_that_?" Chase gestured to the unconscious man on the floor of the lab that nobody was rushing to help.

Jack looked at him and sighed. "Tak-Siu's a nice guy, Chase," he said with a shrug. "I'd be hard-pressed to do worse, even if he _did _want me to convert for him, and…well, you'd never seemed interested before, so I thought he was the best I could get."

Jack saw that Chase still seemed confused and smiled. "Chase," he said, "anything less than you would be settling as far as I'm concerned, even somebody like him. He's pretty, but you're gorgeous. He's strong, but you're a supernova. He's a great guy, but you're fucking _amazing. _If I can have you, why the hell would I want him?"

Chase's ego, at that moment, was entirely capable of destroying several large cities á la Godzilla, but all that showed of it on his face was a particularly smug smirk.

"The fault is mine then," he said casually. "I apologize for leading you to believe that Xiaolin weakling to be your best prospect, but now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, I'm certain I don't need to tell you to never associate with him again."

Jack matched the smirk. "Sure thing. His nose'll probably heal crooked anyway and I'm kinda shallow."

Chase laughed, _very_ pleased with such an observation and easily hoisted Jack over his shoulder, uncaring of the goth's startled, 'whoa!' "I still feel the need to prove my mastery over you, Spicer," he said. "It will be done in my bed for a number of hours sans clothing. If you have any objection, you had best raise it now."

Jack remained absolutely silent, though his grin threatened to tear his cheeks.

"Most excellent," said Chase and with nothing but a thought and a bit of magic, the warlord and his prize were gone from the lab, leaving the broken and bleeding doctor behind them.

**A/N: For Silvarbelle, still!**

**_Twenty Nine -_...busted. XD**

**_Thirty -_More jealousy, this time from the other side of Chack! Fun Fact: Tak-Siu's name is something of an acronym. In outlining the story, I abbreviated 'New Guy' as NG, which I then realized is a legitimate Chinese surname and from there, I went with Tak-Siu Ng : TSNG : Totally Screwed New Guy. XD**

**Okay, so, length restrictions are a bastard. This would've been the last post, but apparently, these two and the remaining three ficlets are too big for a single post, so I have to break it up even further. _Hop__efully_ the next one will be the last one, because I'll be pissed if I have to post a single ficlet by itself. XD**

**Part 6 is finito! Thanks for reading it. :D**


	7. Thirty One to Thirty Three

**33 Ways (Jack Could've Hooked Up With Chase)**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, implications of sexual situations, etc.**

**...**

**Thirty One -**

The first thing Jack was aware of was a throbbing pain in his skull, shockingly similar to what he imagined a drill to his brain might feel like. Secondly was the all-encompassing ache in his muscles, followed by a vague feeling of nausea.

Groaning, he sat up in bed, squinting against the light streaming in through the window of the bedroom.

He had only just realized that it wasn't _his_ bedroom when the sound of shifting covers called his attention to the other side of the bed, and Jack found himself locking eyes with Chase Young.

Thankfully for Jack's pride, he did _not_ freak out or faint or do something otherwise girly and embarrassing.

He did, however, ask, "Shit, what _happened_ last night?"

Chase, in counterpoint to his usual flawless elegance, looked just as groggy and hungover as Jack was feeling. Closing his eyes and running his fingers through his mussed and tangled hair, he shrugged. "I don't know," the warlord admitted, "but if you listen closely, you can _hear_ our livers screaming in agony."

Jack blinked. "_You_ don't remember?" he asked incredulously. "But…you have a superhuman metabolism or something. How much do you have to drink to get blackout drunk?"

"Quite a lot," said Chase. "A very great big Dojo's backside sized amount of alcohol."

"Yikes," was all Jack could think to say. His mind really was a blank as to how things had gotten to this point. "I don't even remember where all this alcohol came from. Was there, like, a Heylin party or something?"

"Yessssssss," Chase groaned, falling back to the bed. "It was an Evil Monster Bash. I asked you to be my date because I couldn't stomach Wuya clinging to me all night. You decided you needed some 'dutch courage', as the saying goes, and showed up already half-wasted."

Thinking back, Jack did have vague memories of that, being flattered at the invitation and then panicked a few hours before the party. The party itself was a blur, but Jack was pretty sure everyone else had been just as hammered.

"Oh," he said out loud. "Oh, yeah."

To that, Chase said nothing and Jack tried desperately to ignore the weighty feeling of awkwardness settling over him. It seemed pretty obvious that at some point last night, he and his idol had 'done it,' but as for details, Jack couldn't remember a damn thing and he was at a complete loss for what to say now.

I love you? No, that would be crazy.

So, was I the girl? No, awful.

Come here often? Oh, that was just _dumb._

Was it good for you? _Hell_ no.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jack hoped Chase didn't notice he was blushing and kept trying to think of something to say to him that _wasn't_ idiotic.

Thankfully, he was saved the trouble when a familiar 'beep' sounded from the floor.

"That'd…be my phone," Jack said weakly, reaching down to the floor to retrieve it from the pocket of his discarded pants.

Displayed on the screen was a text message from none other than Katnappé.

_Mornin' Jackie!_ it said. _Saw you leave with Chase last night, LOL. He didn't work you too hard, did he?_

Oh, lord.

The phone was placed on the bedside table and Jack sighed, thinking that he wished he knew the answer to Ashley's question even as he told Chase, "Katnappé saw us leave together. That basically means _everybody_ knows by now."

Chase lazily sat up again, shaking his head. "They only _really_ know what they saw at the party," he said. "If they know anything further, there's either some kind of surveillance in my own home that I am unable to detect, or we videotaped the whole thing and posted it on the Internet."

Jack went as white as his limited skin pigmentation would allow. "…we were both really drunk," he said at length. "Are you sure neither of us suggested Option Two?"

Both men looked at each other for a long moment…and then made a mad scramble for their nearest technology, Jack, his phone and Chase, his personal computer.

Quickly checking through a variety of his online accounts, Jack sighed in relief. "Okay, _I_ didn't post anything," he said firmly. "If there's something posted, now you can't kill _me _over it."

Chase replied shortly from the laptop on his desk. "I haven't posted anything either," he said, "but there seems to be a very large video file that wasn't there before."

"So, we did tape it," Jack mumbled, pulling on his pants now that he was most definitely up. He scanned the floor with his eyes for a minute, but was unable to locate the shirt or the fashionable leather coat he'd worn to yesterday's party. Frowning and squinting over at the window, Jack asked, "Hey, uh…if it's not too much trouble, could you pull the shades or something? I don't do well with…um…sun."

"I'll do you one better," Chase said distractedly, waving his hand without taking his eyes off the computer screen.

Jack jumped as the window disappeared entirely. "What the—"

"It's a magical illusion," Chase explained. "I enjoy the view of the sky and the weather afforded by windows, but I dislike the idea of an additional access point in my fortress. Magical windows allow me to keep the view _and_ the security."

"Oh. That makes sense."

This time, the following lull in conversation was filled by Chase.

"If you're hungry, you may find my jaguar, Diol, just outside the door and tell him to go get breakfast started."

"Oh, yeah," Jack said, "right, I can do that. Um…do you have bacon?" Immediately, Jack cursed himself for the stupid question, because _of course_ Chase would have bacon, he's a _lord_!

Chase, however, did not treat it as a foolish question. "As much bacon as you want," he assured, but Jack noticed that he had yet to turn away from his computer.

"Did it get kinky?" Jack wondered, too far away to see the details of what was happening on the screen.

"There's about three hours of footage," Chase said. "There's not even any sign of sex yet. Are you worried I'll let you miss the 'good parts'?"

Jack flushed again. "No, no," he said hastily, "I just…I'll just…bacon."

Chase chuckled and Jack kept up a steady mantra of, 'stupid, stupid, stupid' in his head as he opened the bedroom door and looked for Diol to pass on the jaguar's duty.

Diol, thankfully, was quickly found and acquiesced to his master's indirect order, nodding to Jack to show that he understood before quietly padding off down the hallway.

By the time Jack wandered back into Chase's bedroom (because without the rest of his clothes or his helipack, he couldn't exactly go anywhere else), Chase claimed to be roughly two hours into the video that had been taken by way of skimming.

"Uh…so did we…?" Jack hesitantly wondered.

"Many times," Chase told him, fastforwarding through the final hour or so of the video. It was blurry and dark, but the…movement on it seemed clear enough. "I had no idea you were so flexible, Spicer."

Jack tried very hard to keep the blood from rushing to his cheeks again. "Yeah, well, I… You're, um…sexy." Again, Jack began cursing himself in his head when Chase laughed at him and really, really wished he knew how he was _supposed_ to be acting right now because it seemed all he was doing was embarrassing himself.

"Come here, Jack," Chase invited abruptly and Jack stilled, staring at him.

"I…what?" he helplessly asked.

"Come _here,_" Chase insisted.

And because really, he didn't know _what_ to do, Jack cautiously approached the dragonlord even though he only had on a pair of pants and Chase sat before his computer wearing nothing at all.

Chase smirked at him the moment he was within grabbing distance and hauled the goth onto his lap, uncaring of the tiny squeak Jack made at the action.

"You're almost unbearably cute, Spicer," he purred, pressing a few feather-light kisses to Jack's neck. "Have you had drunken, indiscriminate sex before, or am I your first?"

Jack feebly attempted to push Chase away. "It…it wasn't indiscriminate," he protested. "I was drunk, but I mean…I obviously have standards—look at who I went home with!"

Chase laughed again. "You make a fair point," he conceded, making Jack shiver by trailing his warm, ungloved hands down his bare back. "However, you still haven't answered my question: am I your first?"

"What do you think?" Jack bitterly demanded.

"I think," Chase said, "that I am and I consider myself lucky to have gotten to you before anyone else wised up and took you."

_What?_

Jack blinked and jerked back, momentarily forgetting he was on Chase's lap. He lost his balance and nearly fell backwards onto the floor, but was caught and straightened before he could.

Muttering a 'thanks,' Jack revisited the question he had been about to ask before that particular embarrassment. "What do you mean, 'lucky'?" he asked. "You…you hate me."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Does it feel like I hate you, Spicer?" the dragonlord wondered. "Would I willingly make love to you for nearly three _hours_ if I disliked you?"

"You were drunk," Jack snapped, "and I was, too. You said yourself you don't remember any of it and I know I don't, so…you probably didn't even _want _to."

"Jack," Chase sighed, sounding exasperated, "I _was_ drunk, last night. I can assure you I'm quite sober now, and yet here you are, shirtless in my lap while I am completely naked and if you'll recall, I _put_ you there."

Jack simply stared at him.

"Spicer, it has been a very long time since I've _hated _you," Chase told him. "Surely you've noticed how much better our relationship has become these past few years."

"Well, I…maybe…" Jack slowly admitted, "but—"

"No buts," Chase declared. "I invited you to that party because I didn't want to endure Wuya, yes, but also because of the likelihood of this exact thing happening."

Jack's eyes went wide. "You _planned_ on sleeping with me?"

Chase smirked. "You give me too little credit to think it was a complete accident that we came to and left the party together, Jack. In fact, the only thing I _didn't_ account for was the alcohol."

"You didn't plan to get drunk?"

"Not quite as drunk as I did become," Chase corrected, "and I mostly certainly failed to anticipate you already being half-soused before the party got underway. It really is flattering that the idea of being my date for the evening got you that nervous, but I would've liked _one _of us to remember last night's…after-party."

Jack made a face. "Well…we've got video of it," he reminded.

"Yes," Chase agreed, "but video is a poor substitute for memory."

Jack really did feel strange sitting in a very naked Chase Young's lap and not doing anything, and almost against his will, he opened his mouth.

"The great thing about memories is you can always make new ones."

Chase, appearing quite startled by the statement, stared at Jack long enough that he was sure he'd said something stupid again.

Right up until Chase began laughing.

"You make an _excellent_ point, Spicer," he chuckled, pulling the goth closer to more firmly straddle his thighs. "It's pointless to lament the past. It would be best to simply enjoy the present…"

And though still feeling very confused and awkward, Jack felt leagues more at ease and smiled back as Chase undid the button of his pants.

**Thirty Two -**

"Chase Young, I come to you on a matter of great importance."

Chase raised an eyebrow at the small-statured monk before him. He had been…surprised, to say the least when Omi had decided to pay him this visit with no prompting whatsoever.

Omi _must_ have rated whatever he had to say as very high priority, for he came to the palace alone (save only for Dojo as transportation) and offered no fight as he was peacefully led to its master.

"Changed your mind about remaining Xiaolin yet?" Chase wondered. "I'm still convinced that you would do much better as Heylin."

"Give it up, already, Young," said Dojo, perched on Omi's shoulder. "There's no _way_ he's gonna join you!"

Chase frowned. "Do you _want_ to be eaten?" he asked. "I can still do that, you know."

Predictably, Dojo went silent.

Omi rolled his eyes. "I am content with my position as a Xiaolin monk," he assured. "I am not here for myself. I have come on behalf of someone else."

Intriguing. "Really? And who might that be?"

"Jack Spicer."

_More_ intriguing. "Spicer? Spicer went to _you_ for a favor?" If Jack was willing to stoop so low as to ask a monk for aid, it could mean a _drastic _backslide in his progress.

Omi, however, shook his head. "He did not ask this of me," he explained. "I am here because I am Xiaolin and as a monk, I must not hesitate to help someone in need."

"Of course," Chase said, less than enthused. "And just why do you suppose Spicer is in need of your help?"

"Surely, you have seen it!" Omi exclaimed. "He is miserable!"

"Miserable?"

"Have you not noticed his absence from Showdowns lately?"

Chase had. Of _course_ he had. He was deeply invested in Jack's potential and it would not do to lose track of him.

Aloud, he said, "I'd noticed. I assumed he was still recovering from that last devastating defeat you and yours dealt him."

Omi winced. "That was many weeks ago, Chase Young," he nonetheless argued. "Even Jack has admitted that it was not us that had gotten to him."

Chase blinked. "You actually went to see him?"

"Yes," Omi confirmed, "and it is his relationship with _you_ that has upset him."

At that, Chase sneered. "We _have_ no relationship to speak of," he said. In his own opinion, he thought he did an excellent job keeping his bitterness at that fact out of his tone.

"Which is precisely the problem! I cannot stand to see a…friend so dejected. _That_ is why I am here."

Chase could not help his laugh. "I am certain Spicer would not approve of being called your 'friend.' Tell me, Omi, has he given you permission to confront me on his behalf?"

"He hasn't," the monk admitted, "but I did not ask. For what I am about to do, I do not need it."

At a simple thought from their master, the jungle cats circling Omi simultaneously stood and growled, low and threatening.

"And just what is it that you intend to do, young monk?" Chase coolly wondered.

"Forgive me, Chase Young," Omi said, removing a white orb from his sleeve, "but you two truly _must_ work this out."

Chase stood immediately upon recognizing the Shen Gong Wu Omi had brought. His warriors were already launching themselves at the monk, but they were not quick enough to stop the Wu's activation.

"Orb of Hézuó!"

There was a blinding flash that enveloped Chase and when his vision returned, he found himself standing not in his palace, but in a small, all-white room with no windows, doors, or any other viable exit.

Omi had successfully sealed him in the orb and if Chase had any idea of what the monk was up to, he was not alone.

"Chase? He got you, too?"

Chase turned and just as he'd expected, there was Jack, sitting with his back against the wall.

"Spicer," he acknowledged. "Obviously, that is the case, as I would not be here otherwise."

Jack looked embarrassed. "Oh. Right." He seemed to be searching for something to say after that and eventually settled on, "So…what is this thing anyway?"

Chase sighed and took a seat opposite Jack. "It's called the Orb of Hézuó," he explained. "It has been used as a more extreme method of team-building when the normal tactics employed by monks to make their initiates cooperate fail."

"Why's short-sheet using it on us?" Jack wondered. "Is he trying to turn us good by making us learn the awesome power of working together or something?"

"According to Omi," said Chase, "you are upset about something. The purpose of this particular Wu is to force two or more parties to come to some kind of understanding. We are trapped here until that happens. It would seem that he is trying to cheer you up by forcing us onto good terms with one another."

Jack scowled. "That stupid little…I _told_ him not to bother!" Crossing his arms over his chest, he muttered with no small amount of resentment, "It looks like we're gonna be in here _awhile._"

"Only if you are still under the impression that you must stab your allies in the back," Chase told him. "Otherwise, you _could_ choose to be pragmatic, work _with_ me, and we could be out of here in a matter of minutes."

"Oh, just leave me alone!" Jack snapped. "It's better to stab people in the back than to just wait around for them to jab a knife in yours."

Chase resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I _can_ understand why you might think it would always be that way. The monks and Wuya have hardly provided you with stellar examples of loyalty. However, you _know_ me, Spicer and you _know _my code of ethics."

"You're damn right I do," said Jack, "and _you've_ stabbed me in the back, too."

The sheer vitriol in Jack's tone as he said it was enough to give Chase pause. It would seem that Omi was not too far from the mark: Jack certainly appeared to feel hostility towards him, though Chase could not imagine why.

Nothing had changed between them recently and Chase was certain he had not treated Jack any differently than he always had.

"You stabbed me first," Chase pointed out. "Once that happens, I have no reason not to return the favor."

Jack gave him a baleful glare. "Do I have to bring up the T-Rex again?" he demanded. "'cause I'm not above that. What did I do to offend your honorable sensibilities _that_ time, Chase? Why did I deserve _that_?"

Ah. So _that_ was what Spicer held against him.

"You wanted to be mine," Chase said. "You had to learn the distastefulness of such a thing, to understand the betrayal even among evil, before I could allow you to _be_ mine. Have you learned it? Do you understand it?"

Jack sneered. "That you're possibly the biggest _dick_ on the entire planet? _Yes_, I know that! I've known that for _years_! You're a Grade A, first class _jerk_, Chase: you didn't have to teach me _that_."

"If that is so, you should not bear a grudge over my actions."

"That's _not_ what's pissing me off," Jack growled. "I don't care _that_ you threw me to a goddamn dinosaur, I care that you _would._ I thought that I—" He cut himself off for a moment, and when he continued, he sounded leagues less certain. "I _wanted _to be…more… Oh, just…never mind."

Chase, of course, was not an idiot. He understood the 'more' that Jack wanted to be. "If you speak the truth, then why did you seem to have no trouble whatsoever throwing me to the lava in Atlantis a mile or so beneath the planet's crust?"

Jack flushed deeply. "I react badly to life-or-death situations!" he exclaimed. "It's _hard_ for me to trust people. I _get_ that it was a mistake, I _know_ that now. I wasn't _thinking_ then!"

Chase frowned and irritation colored his tone. "I _require_ you to be thinking if you insist on being a part of my home and my life!"

"That was years ago, Chase," retorted Jack. "Have you even _bothered_ to give me a chance since then? Since I was a _kid_?"

"Of course I have!" Chase growled back. "I have given you _every_ chance, and you _still _refuse to prove yourself to me!"

Jack only scoffed. "Well, stop waiting. I'm done trying."

Chase went very still. "…what?"

"I'm _done,_ Chase," Jack repeated. "I'm tired of you stringing me along, so I…I'm done."

"You're…giving up." Even to himself, Chase sounded incredulous, but he couldn't help it. "You're giving _up._ You're…"

Jack only looked at him, scowling.

Chase gave a snort that was fury and disbelief and _**no!**_ all at once. "Pathetic!" he declared. "You are _pathetic,_ Spicer! I should've _expected_ you to give up so easily."

Jack's eyes widened. "_Easily_?" he all but shrieked. "You think it was _easy_ for me to get to this point? You…you think I just decided I changed my mind or…or got _bored_?"

"You _are _fickle," Chase sneered. "Am I supposed to think differently?"

"Five _years_ is fickle to you?" Jack demanded. "Five, solid _years_ of—of trying to get your attention, trying to prove myself to you, trying to just be _yours_? Five years of being pretty much _crucified_ every time I did something wrong and earning the privilege to be _ignored_ if I did something right?"

To that, Chase had nothing to say.

Jack scoffed quietly, curling into himself. "I get it, Chase. I'm not _good_ enough for you. _Nothing_ I do is. _That_ was the thing I had to learn, the hard way, but I finally learned it, so I'm _done_."

Jack…had a few valid points. Chase had to admit that he had given Jack very little in the way of encouragement. He had…taken for granted that the goth would just keep trying for him. It had simply never occurred to him that Jack might need to be thrown the occasional bone now and then to keep him from losing hope.

Chase sighed. So, it appeared that _he_ was at fault, as well.

"Perhaps…you are not the only one who has failed to live up to expectations…"

Jack looked up. "What does _that_ mean?"

"I am a proud man, Spicer, but even I am able to admit when I have…erred." He reached out, touching Jack's shoulder. "It was never my intention for you to 'give up.' I want and have always wanted you to be mine."

Jack shrugged off the hand. He looked like he would've backed away, too, if he had not already been sitting up against the wall. "Bull," he said, clearly not convinced. "If you wanted me, why didn't you just take me? It's not like I never offered."

Chase shook his head. "It was meant to be a test of your devotion to me. You were still young when you made your offer. I had to be certain that it was truly _me_ you wanted and not just some childish _idea _of me."

"It's _always_ been you that I wanted," Jack said, wincing when his voice cracked. He took a moment to regain control of himself before continuing. "But I can't keep doing this. I'm not gonna spend my whole life waiting for you."

Chase was not one to beg and he didn't. He merely said, "I had thought I meant more to you than that."

Jack sighed. "Chase…you mean _everything_ to me but despite popular opinion, I'm not a masochist. Five years and nothing to show for it…" The look he gave his idol was pained, but mostly just _desperate._ "Chase, if you want me to stay you have to give me a reason because right now, I don't _have_ one."

Chase merely looked at him in response and Jack visibly drooped. He looked tragically sad. "Fine," he said, bitterness in his voice. "I get it. I—"

Chase cut him off with a kiss.

It was not a passionate kiss. It was chaste and gentle, at odds with the warlord's usual demeanor, but he felt the occasion called for it.

He was immediately rewarded for it by Jack, who kissed back without even the hesitation of shock so, _so_ eager he was for the attention.

Yes, Chase knew, Jack had waited long _enough _for this.

Chase pulled away after a bit. "How is that for a reason…Jack?"

It seemed to take Jack a minute to speak. When he did, there was half of a smile on his face. "That…should keep me going for awhile. You really…want me to stay?"

"I want _you, _Jack," Chase said simply. "I thought I'd said as much."

Jack looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "You're not worried I'm gonna betray you or 'change my mind'?"

"I believe that you have…_more_ than adequately proven your devotion to me these past years," Chase admitted. "I can see now that you want me as much as I want you."

Reacting to his words, spoken sincerely, the white room that trapped the two of them began to dissolve.

"Hey, it's letting us out!" Jack grinned hesitantly at Chase. "I guess we must've reached an understanding…"

Chase took Jack by the hand. "Yes," he said, "I suppose we did."

**Thirty Three -**

Kimiko giggled as the lantern turned pink in Clay's hands. "Me next," she said with outstretched hands, "me next!"

The cowboy obligingly tossed it to her and she caught it easily. Once in her hands, the glow darkened before phasing into blue. "I like guys," Kim declared. "What about you, Rai?"

Rai grinned at her. "Give it here," he said, "I'll show you!"

Kimiko passed the lantern, watching it brighten back up to pink.

"No surprise there, of course," Raimundo said, smoothing back his hair. "I've always had a way with the ladies."

Kim giggled at him. "Yeah, in your dreams, maybe!"

"I _still_ do not see the point of this, my friends," Omi frowned at them. "The Fa Jián Lantern is not a toy for amusement purposes…"

Rai let out a sigh. "Aw, come on, Omi, don't go all authority figure on us. We're just using it how it's meant to be used!"

"I am not _trying_ to be rectangular, Raimundo," said Omi, "but I simply don't understand what you find so appealing about this."

"'cause you haven't tried it yet!" The wind dragon bent down and shoved the lantern into Omi's hands. "See, look, it's…gray?"

The other monks gathered around.

"Well, looky there," drawled Clay, "it _did _turn gray…"

"What does that mean?" wondered Kim.

"It means that as a truly masterful monk, I have grown beyond the need for this lantern," Omi proclaimed. "I have no desire for the fleshy pleasures and none may tempt me with their girly wiles. You should _all_ hope to reach that level of monkliness."

"So, basically, you're asexual."

Kimiko laughed, punching Rai in the shoulder and making him snicker, as well. Even Clay cracked a grin.

"My friends, you are missing the point!" said Omi. "The point—"

"Is that the Wu is mine!"

"Jack Spicer!" Omi tightened his grip on the Shen Gong Wu. "You shall not take the Fa Jián Lantern!"

Jack appeared on the scene as he usually did, with his army of robots behind him and a cocky grin on his face. "You can say whatever you want, Cheeseball," he sneered, "but we both know that Wu is going home with _me_!"

Kimiko snorted. "Probably the only thing that would," she quipped. "Is that why you want it, Jack? 'cause it wouldn't shoot you down?"

Jack frowned deeply, even as Raimundo laughed. "_Burn,_" he said, high-fiving Kim. "Nice one."

Omi looked confused. "But he is not on fire. Kimiko was merely taunting Jack Spicer about his loneliness—"

"Yeah, _thanks_ for that," snapped Jack, "but you can stop, now."

"Couldn't agree more, Spicer," said Clay. "What say ya' just skedaddle on outta here an' save yerself a butt-whoopin'?"

Jack scowled at him. "What, too scared to fight me, cowboy?" he demanded.

Clay duly rolled his eyes. "Spicer—" he started.

"Whoa, take it easy, Jack," Rai interrupted. "I don't think any of us want to tangle with you."

Jack paused. "…what?"

The sentiment was echoed by all of his fellow monks as well.

"Sure," Rai went on, "I really think this Wu belongs in _Jack's hands,_ don't you guys think so?"

Kim was the first to catch on. "Ohhh, yeah. He's right: we've had our fun with it. Jack _should_ take it."

"What are you _talking_ about?" exclaimed Omi. "He is _evil_! He'll—" He was quickly muffled by Kimiko's hand over his mouth.

This, of course, made Jack more than a little suspicious. Unfortunately for him, he had no idea of the Wu's function and so had no way to know just _what _the monks were up to.

"O…kay, then," he said hesitantly. "I'll just…uh…take it…"

Clay frowned. "Fellas, I dunno—"

"Think fast!" Raimundo exclaimed, tossing the lantern at the evil genius.

Jack's eyes widened and he dove forward to catch it, fumbling with it just a little before getting a firm grip on it.

The Fa Jián Lantern quickly turned a damningly bright shade of blue.

Both Rai and Kimiko burst out laughing.

"Oh my god," Kim giggled, "_that_ explains why his crush on me didn't last long! He's _gay_!"

Jack gaped at her. "Wh…_what_?"

"That explains _so_ much," Rai laughed, elbowing Kim. "Hey, how many times do you think he lost a Showdown 'cause he was too busy checking me out?"

"…gay?" Jack's expression was that of one completely mortified. "I…I'm not gay, I…"

But he was not heard over the renewed bout of laughter.

Clay, however, was. "All o' ya', _shut up_!" he bellowed.

Everyone did immediately.

The big, blond cowboy ambled over to Jack, scratching the back of his neck. "Lookee here, Jack," he began. "I realize gettin' a friendly talkin'-to is rarer'n hens teeth for ya', but—"

Jack interrupted. "_What?_"

Clay shook his head. "Don't worry about the mule, son, just load the wagon."

Jack made a face at him. "I'm still not even hearing words in that."

"_Look,_" Clay said firmly, "what I'm tryin' t' say is that lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier'n gettin' it back in—"

It was Omi that interrupted this time, wide-eyed and baffled. "We have _cats,_ now?"

Rai facepalmed while Kimiko rolled her eyes.

"Seriously," said Jack, "_speak _the King's English, man!"

"I don't got no king an' neither do you - less o' course yer a fan of Elvis."

Taking that as his cue to lighten the mood, Dojo slipped down out of Clay's hat, strumming a guitar and wearing an Elvis-style pompadour wig. There was no sign of where he'd come up with it on such short notice.

Everyone watched him slither away in silence before Jack weakly asked, "Are you sure _he's_ not the gay one…?"

Raimundo let out a bark of laughter. "Just admit it!" he pressed. "You're _gay,_ dude! Oh, sorry: _dudette._"

Kimiko laughed and Jack flushed, indignant.

Clay sighed, muttering, "Lord, give me patience…" before returning his attention to Jack. "Jack, listen," he said. "The first thing t' do when ya' find yerself in a hole is t' stop diggin'."

Jack opened his mouth to speak.

"An' I realize that the news o' you bein' partial t' men is about as welcome as a skunk at a barbecue," Clay went on.

Jack scowled and made to speak again.

"An' I get that you keep _wantin' _t' say you ain't, but, well, you can put yer boots in the oven but that don't make 'em biscuits."

Omi blinked. "Booty biscuits?"

And of course, Rai had to mutter, "Bet Jack'd like those," which sent Kim into a fit of howling laughter.

Even as Jack hid his face in his hands, thoroughly embarrassed by now, Clay growled and stomped his foot on the ground, using his control over earth to send up a big mound of dirt just beneath Raimundo, tossing him several hundred feet away.

"Somebody needs to kill me right about now," Jack pled.

"Ain't nobody gonna kill ya', Spicer."

"_Please,_" he begged, "it would be a mercy killing at this point."

"Look, we all'us kinda suspected," Clay said before pausing. "'cept for Omi 'cause he just doesn't think of sex - but... well, now... the way you pomade yer hair an' the make-up an' the shriekin' like a Calliope whistle at the _least _li'l thing... I mean, sure, ya' show up t' these things as full o' wind as a corn-eatin' horse, but truth is you're gay as hell, son."

"I understood…_so_ little of that," said Jack, "and I _still_ feel seven different colors of insulted and humiliated."

In the distance, Raimundo's voice could be heard. "If there's one thing you'd know about, it'd be colors!"

Jack _winced._ "Walked _right _into that…"

"I don't see how he could understand colors," Omi said. "He has no color to speak of except for that girly hair of his and the black he wears like a funeral ensemble."

Kimiko snickered. "Omi's got a point, _girlfriend._ What's your favorite magazine: Better Homes and Coffins?"

"For gays!" Rai helpfully added.

A bright-red Jack was throwing the Fa Jián Lantern on the ground even as Clay stomped again and covered Raimundo and Kim with dirt.

"Keep your stupid Wu," Jack growled, "and _fuck_ you people! I am _so _out!"

Rai poked his head back up from the ground. "Of the closet, right?"

Clay glared at him. "Would you _kindly_ keep yer yap shut, Pedrosa? I'm tryin' t' help the poor boy out, here!"

"Of the closet Rai mentioned?"

Omi's question was, of course, completely innocent, but it had Rai and Kim dying again immediately.

Jack glared fiercely at all of them. "I _hate_ you."

Clay sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Omi, yer 'scused 'cause you don't know any better, but if those two damn yankees don't stop yappin', I'm gonna be madder'n a wet hen!"

There was silence for all of a few seconds.

"How about a wet cock? I'm sure Jack would—"

"_Fuck. You,_" Jack snarled.

Raimundo grinned at him. "No, thanks: my lantern glow was _pink._ I happen to like the ladies just fine."

"Such an effective mediator you are, Bailey," mused a new voice. "You try to help Spicer, and yet you can't even keep _that_ one silent for more than a minute or so."

Jack looked over, his face already falling. "Chase," he helplessly acknowledged. "I…don't suppose you could come back later. This is…a _really_ bad time for me…" On top of everything else, the _last _thing Jack needed was to be further humiliated in front of his idol.

Chase, however, showed no signs of leaving. "I'm well aware of your predicament, Spicer," he said. "I am here to inform you there is no need for it to be any worse than any other time you've suffered the pitiful slings and arrows from these twits."

Jack blinked, processing Chase's words before grinning hopefully. "You're here to kill me before it gets any worse?"

"_No,_" Chase frowned. "Quite the opposite." He turned his attention to the Fa Jián Lantern still on the ground. A flicker of his power had it rising upwards and towards him before settling in his palm. "Look," he instructed the goth.

Jack did so, a thrill of shock coursing through him as the lantern's glow became purple. He understood immediately. "Holy crap…_really_?"

Chase nodded in conformation.

Jack gave a short chuckle. "Well," he said, "I mean, if _you…_I guess I don't have to be all…y'know."

Watching this, Omi spoke up. "I am confused," he said. "What does purple mean?"

Chase glanced at the smallest monk and back at Jack, who still looked quite a _bit_ embarrassed, despite his words. He grinned. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order."

Jack let out a very unmanly squeak as Chase caught him and _kissed_ him, deeply and, dare he say it?, passionately.

The monks' collective jaws _dropped._

Hell, Jack's would've if his mouth hadn't been previously engaged.

Chase eventually released Jack and turned to face Omi. "Now, what color do you get when you mix any form of red with any form of blue?"

Omi blinked. "Any form of purple."

"And what do the colors of this lantern – pink and blue – represent?"

"Pink indicates an appreciation of girls, while blue indicates—" Omi stopped with a gasp, abruptly understanding. "Holy mother of dragons, you like _both_?"

Chase appeared to shrug. "A thousand or so years is a long time, young monk," he said. "Plenty of opportunities to experiment. What one might think of as strange," he eyed Jack, standing at his side, and smiled, "can become _exotic._"

Jack blushed and for the first time that day, it was _not_ because of shame.

"Much as I hate t' admit it," Clay interrupted, "'cause more often than not ya' think the sun done come up just t' hear ya' crow, this time Chase is right."

"I am _always_ right," sneered Chase.

A very dirty Rai and Kim rejoined the rest of their group as Clay went on. "Look, the point is: ain't nothin' wrong with bein' blue, pink, gray, or purple. It don't matter what the color, so long as you ain't all hat an' no cattle."

Jack couldn't help but interrupt the somewhat guilty silence that followed. "Does that mean you have sex with cattle?"

And Raimundo and Kimiko were snorting and laughing all over again.

Clay, of course, found it infinitely less funny, and the two of them were dropped into a sinkhole.

Chase gave a darkly amused grin while Jack eyed the hole warily. He knew himself well enough to know that if the opportunity was presented, he _would_ make another crack. Clay appeared to be at the limits of his patience and would undoubtedly not take it very well.

In light of this, Jack took a step backwards. "As…_fun _as today's been," he said, "I think I'm done. I'm going home." A silent nod had his Jackbots, still hovering around awaiting orders, flying off into the distance and back to the Spicer estate.

"Good idea," Clay agreed. "And to answer yer question, _I do not._"

Fully knowing it was a bad idea, Jack couldn't stop himself. "Right, you like _pigs._"

Clay glared at him and _growled._

Jack meeped and prepared to run for it, only to find Chase standing protectively in front of him. He gratefully hid behind the man, peeking over his shoulder.

"Gather your compatriots, Bailey," Chase said firmly, practically ordering, "and depart before you join them in the pseudo-grave you dug open."

Frowning, Clay nonetheless appeared to take the threat seriously for he backed off, retrieving Kim and Rai from the sinkhole and guiding Omi and the rest of them away.

Omi, however, still had a goodbye to give. "Farewell, Jack Spicer! I wish you luck with your closet!"

Jack facepalmed.

"Yeah," sniggered Rai, "why don't you put in a window with some frilly curtains? Or—"

Jack was most definitely done with being a punching bag for the day and showed it by grabbing the Fa Jián Lantern from Chase and hurling it at Raimundo's head.

Spicer, Chase mused, was not known for his arm strength but his marksmanship was superb. That combined with the fact that the monks had not gotten more than few feet away made it so that the lantern clonked the wind dragon right in the head, knocking him out cold.

Clay tugged on the brim of his hat, nodding a thank you as he hefted Rai up and carried him over to Dojo, who had already grown big for the flight home. Thankfully, his Elvis outfit was nowhere to be found, though as he took off into the sky, he _did _drawl in a shoddy impersonation, "Thank ya' - thank ya' very much!"

Chase watched the monks depart with a sneer. "You ain't no friend of _mine,_" he said and Jack laughed out loud.

Chase grinned at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And now, for more important matters."

Jack sobered quickly and stared blankly at him. "…like what?"

"Despite my statement that you should not fret so about this recent outing of your homosexuality…I can tell that you are _very _traumatized."

"Well…not really _that_ tr—"

"_Very_ traumatized," Chase insisted.

Jack blinked, confused.

"Enough so that even I, a prince of evil, do not feel comfortable with leaving you alone just yet. I do believe I should escort you home…_Jack._"

Hope colored the goth's expression and he eventually managed to speak. "I…yes. Yes, I think you should. Definitely. And…when we get there," he suggested tentatively, "you're more than welcome to come inside for…I dunno, coffee or something. Y'know, I mean, it would be the least I could do after you saved me from being traumatized even worse back there…"

Chase gave him a slow, wicked-looking grin, offering his arm. "Why, that sounds absolutely perfect, Jack. I accept the _very _tempting invitation."

The emotion that coursed through Jack right then was a very strange lovechild of relief and glee and he happily took the dragonlord's arm. "Great! You know where the place is."

"So I do," Chase purred and teleported the both of them away.

**...**

**A/N: Guess what? This is still for Silvarbelle! :)**

**_Thirty One -_ The drunken morning after. I had to do it. You _know _I did. XD**

**_Thirty Two -_A pattern I've noticed in the show is that Omi really likes meddling. This time, he's meddling in the love lives of the Heylin in a methodology similar to throwing two alley cats in a sack and letting them work it out. Good luck with that mess when they come out all pissed at you, Omi!**

**_Thirty-Three -_Okay, I think this is the funniest one in the whole collection, quite possibly because it was written with Silvarbelle. Whenever we collaborate on something, it usually ends up being random hilarity, awesomeness, or both.**

**She's the whole reason I wrote this fic (that, and I needed to motivate myself to write again somehow! XD), so much props to you, Silv! We make beautiful(ly ridiculous) fanfic together. ;P**

**And to everyone else, thanks for reading and thanks for sticking with me through what I totally realize was a long, Chack fic-less gap. Hopefully, this'll keep you going for awhile and if everything goes as planned, it won't take me another 7 months before I post anything!**

**But we'll see about that. XD**


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